Shoot for the Moon, Son

 What happens when you mixed a father/son incest fetish fic with Arctic adventures, a meeting of Native cultures, and sex in a tent? How about eight paragraphs centered on kissing? Scores of allegories about the big lump of rock in the sky? You get Voyage to the Moon. You want to see bad history and quasi-romantic writing? Well then sit tight, bucko. We're going to talk about your mother.

Edit: according to the author, this does indeed take place in Alaska. The summary did mention the Western tundra, but the author confused me with her admittedly made up town name that sounded like Iqaluit. Her response will be posted on the last post of this trilogy; the criticisms remain unchanged. 

An update, complete with her response, will be added in a new post. 

The times of upheaval had begun over two hundred years ago, and again and again, villages had been set ablaze and people slaughtered. Legend had it that during a game of darts, one boy had accidentally injured the eye of a friend from another village. The injured boy’s father demanded to be allowed to take out the other boy’s eye to balance the damage done. That was what the parents agreed on. But the enraged father blinded the other boy by taking both of his eyes, and thus the war started. It was also true that resources had become scarce, and the vast plains of the tundra yielded less berries; brought less caribou and less moose for the communities to survive. Less sea mammals came, less salmon flooded the rivers, and the winters were longer. The communities along the coast had to compete for what the land had to offer.

OK, so this is clearly a reference to Native Inuit lore, as well as a statement on the scarcity of resources. This does have grounding in reality, as the eruption of the Icelandic volcano, Laki, had spilled 120 million tonnes of sulphur dioxide into the atmosphere. Not bad for a start.

Agalikmiut was a village of 80 people in 1754.

When I looked up this word, there were next to no uses of the term - this fic being the only exception. What I think she meant was to use Iqaluit, the Inuktitut word for 'place of many fish'. Here is a timeline of its settlement. Sir Martin Frobisher is said to have landed on current day Baffin Island, long before the Russians had set up settlements on the Western coast.

Of course, the inhabitants were suspicious when they found a strange person on the beach in spring. Some of the women had gathered berries close to the shore, and had spotted a creature on the beach. Men, hoping for a stranded sea creature or a useful piece of driftwood, had set out to investigate. However, what they found was apparently neither, much to their disappointment. The person they found bewildered them. It seemed like a man; but he was very different than the brothers they knew. He had dark hair like them, but not as dark. He had two eyes, a nose and a mouth, but the colour of his skin was unlike their own. He had limbs like they did, but his clothing was different. He wore a long knife, but it was not made from slate. It was harder than stone or ivory but at the same time, shiny and sharp. He carried with him many strange objects.

This is one of many problems with this story, incest notwithstanding: Antecanis does not know what Inuits look like or how they would react to a Mohawk. The Inuit peoples of Canada are very Asiatic in appearance with epicanthic folds and wider, flatter faces. Yes, Connor would be 'darker' in appearance because he would be used to more sunlight and UV exposure. 

But that begs the question: how did Connor get there? Let's see if we can find out. 

Some of the men said that he was a spirit. Everyone knew that the seals and the walruses looked different in their homes under water; they took off their furs and lived like people. Perhaps, some of them said, this was a walrus or a seal, drowned without their fur. The men debated what to do about this person. The person was not dead, but he was also not awake. Some of the Agalikmiut said that they should kill him as it would be rude not to accept the spirit offering himself to the village. “But what are we to do with him, then?”, the others argued. There was no use in killing him – he had no fur, bone or flesh they desired. If the spirit had wanted to offer himself to the village, he would have done so in a more useful form. Issuriq, they called him at first, like the spotted seals they hunted.

They know he's not a seal, and they know he's a human. He's not as alien as a white man - which, by that point, they'd already have contact with - and yes, he does indeed have clothing and weapons that you can use. Am I to believe Connor was adrift for so long across the Atlantic and then into the Arctic ocean that he lost all of his muscle? 

After their argument went nowhere, they brought him back to the village, where a shaman looked at him and said, “It’s not the spirit of a seal. It’s a spirit from the moon. I have seen people like him when I travelled there; the tuunraq have skin white like the moon.” Everyone knew that the tuunraq could help to make animals plentiful again, so it was accepted that the spirit was nurtured back to health. The man was taken to the qasgi, the men’s house, where a bed of grass and fur was made for him. He was given water and seal oil, as he didn’t swallow anything firmer. 

I take that back. This isn't Connor but Haytham. Now, the Inuit have already made contact with white people. The Russians made contact with Alaskans in 1732 officially, though there are hypotheses that they made entry into the area in 1648. This aside, Antecanis has not considered the diseases Haytham is carrying inside his body, like smallpox or measles. Even if he recovered from both (and since he does have some Isu DNA this might've offered some protection) he could still pass it to others. Isolated populations of Inuit were decimated, some rendered extinct, by infectious disease.

Kinda amazing how these Native Inuits view a white man as the one to bring back their game. Normally, other people would consider that offensive; the 'White Man Special and Help Us' mentality not withstanding.

Also, if he's suffering from hypothermia there is no mention of it.

The women didn’t dare to go near him except for one. She had come from a different place as well and had found a new home with the Agalikmiut a few years ago. She had travelled a long way from the southeast, and she had seen men like this before at the many fur trading posts she had passed. Men like him had caused her people to flee the lands they had lived on. She didn’t trust these white men, but instead of telling the others, she took care of him to see what he had to say. She wondered if he had news from the place she had fled from. Her name was Kaniehtí:io, but people called her Ziio.

OK, this is a problem. First, there were no stable trade routes that went right from the East coast to the West coast, let alone the Arctic peninsula. The Inuit remained isolated (Russians notwithstanding) from other white people until the Canadian government gained access to the Northwest Territories in the 19th century. Alaska was purchased from the Russians by the Americans in 1867. Spain had tried to set up colonies on trade routes via the West Coast in 1774 and 1800. But until the Oregon trail and other such expeditions, most whites, let alone Native Americans, had not made the trek from one coast to the other. Tribal warfare, disease, and lack of resources to clear the forests would not have allowed them to get to the Arctic. 

Second, there is no way a Mohawk woman would not encounter other hostile tribes. Even Sacajawea had the help of Lewis and Clark, but a lone woman and outsider making her way to the Inuit without issue is unbelievable. They would not be able to speak her language, and she would not be able to assimilate.

Scratch that - it appears Antecanis is indeed sticking to the East Coast after all. 

Antecanis may have done some research on Inuit folklore and beliefs, but she apparently knows little about expansion and geography.  

When the man, who people called Tuunraq, finally awoke, Ziio was the only one who understood his strange language well enough to translate. Some people started to say that Ziio must be a shaman, too, having travelled to the moon and understanding the language of the tuunraq. Unfortunately, he had no news from her people as he had never been to the coast she spoke about – he had heard of it, but did not know of the people being driven from the lands there. He came from England – he had been with an expedition going North; looking for a temple of sorts, or so he said. He said his name was Haytham Kenway, and he had no intention to stay. His ship had been trapped in the ice, and a small crew had set out to find help many months ago; and he was the only one to survive.

No, no, no. If the Inuit already know the Russians are there, they surely know what white people are. Some might have even encountered English traders or Norwegians. There is just no way they're going to act so childish at hearing English and consider white people 'spirits'. Maybe if Haytham was the very first white man I'd understand it. But we're already talking a few decades of Russian settlement. 

Also, what expedition? America did not organize an expedition until the next century. Canada, by nature of its geography and under the British crown, did. And 1800s brought commercial whaling, so that is when white people really started getting involved.

Now, in AC: Rogue, Shay and Haytham go North to get to the Isu temple there. They visit the Hudson Bay area and the Northwest Passage, which is what Antecanis is supposed to base her fic on. If she's using East Coast Inuit, then they already know what white people are because of Norwegians and the Norse. 

But Tuunraq was unwavering, and in the spring of the following year, he left the Agalikmiut. He had built himself a kayak with the help of the people, and he took with him hunting gear, a gutskin jacket, amulets, and food. People had gathered for a last meal in the qasgi the night before he planned to leave, and they had a dance in his honours. They had freely given him supplies to take with him, and a beautifully carved harpoon. He had thanked them in their language – by now understanding most of it and speaking some. Quyana, he had said. Thank you.

Look, the Inuit may have used kayaks to travel across the Land Bridge, but using a kayak to go from one ocean to the other is ridiculous. Especially when you are navigating open ocean and there is nowhere you can go to shield yourself from the elements. We are also not considering how volatile the Atlantic ocean is, with hurricanes and whatnot.  

Ziio didn’t say goodbye. She did not like goodbyes, and this one specifically bothered her. But after Tuunraq had left, she discovered that he had left her something unexpected. That year, Ratonhnhaké:ton was born. That was the Mohawk name Ziio gave to her son in honour of her ancestry. The Yup’ik of Agalikmiut called the boy Qimugtauyagaq, which meant ‘puppy’. He was a bright, curious boy, hearing stories of his father in the moon watching over him as he learned the ways of the Agalikmiut.

I don't think Antecanis knows much about the residential schools here, but mixed race marriages are looked down upon. Now, you have an outsider being born to another outsider, and they consider him as one of their own. Yet Connor will never be truly Inuit and will not be considered Inuit by them. He is physically different. 

Ratonhnhaké:ton, or Connor, as he called himself these days when dealing with the Russians or Englishmen, wrinkled his nose. “Why is that man asking about the Agalikmiut?”, he muttered with suspicion in his voice. He hadn't heard that name in a long time, and he would be lying if it didn't bring back old memories and a distant pain.

OK, this is where Antecanis confuses Alaska with Canada. East Coast Inuits had the English, Dutch, and Danes interact with them. The West Coast had Russia interact with them. If she's using the Northwest passage, which I am sure she is, the Russians did not make contact there. 

He was on a friendly basis with this particular Russian trader – he had helped the older man against some violent sea otter hunters, and ever since then, Connor knew that he could expect a fair trade at this particular outpost. He wasn’t sure if the Russian knew that he wasn’t truly one of the ‘Eskimos’ as the white men called them – but he had told him that he had come from the western coast and it seemed as if the trader had remembered that when an Englishman had started to ask questions in one of the larger trading settlements a bit further south.

Dude, it is obvious you are not Inuit, because you don't have epicanthic folds and you are considerably larger than them. You might have jet black hair and the Siberian cousins, but you underwent a different evolutionary path. Does Antecanis really think all Natives look the same and can't tell each other apart? Racist.

The Russians and their missionaries were moving further North, and Ratonhnhaké:ton generally tried to stay away from the larger settlements and trading posts. He had spent some winters in villages where people had built churches for their new Moravian God.

Did I not spend a few paragraphs writing about how the Russians colonized Alaska and not the East Coast? It was the English and Norse who visited the East Coast. Going off what I said earlier in that the American interior was not even developed then and uncharted, taking a walk through there is nigh on impossible. We're talking about a time when there were no trains and no rail lines going from east to west. 

He hid the ammunition he had acquired in the bow of his kayak and fastened his new knife to his belt. “Tell him to go back down South – there is nothing left of the Agalikmiut but spirits in the tundra. Whatever answers he came looking for, they are gone and best left undisturbed. If he has any respect, he will turn away.” Ratonhnhaké:ton couldn’t help the bitterness in his voice. He did not say more, but left the outpost shortly after. 

I highly doubt Antecanis even knows where Iqaluit really is, because she confused it for fucking Alaska. Jesus Christ. The French and the English were the main traders on that coast, not the Russians.  Connor could not and never would be considered Inuit, because he is an outsider and, miraculously, did not arouse any tribal animosities there. 

His current camp was not far from the outpost, but he was now even more determined to move it upriver for the annual moose hunt soon. Men did not usually camp by themselves, but Ratonhnhaké:ton had no kin. After Agalikmiut, he had been raised in a village further inland, but he had not felt at home there, especially not as missionaries had arrived and turned his world upside down.

(...) But now… he felt more like a wolf, hunting in the tundra by himself and howling up to the moon in starry nights; a wishful, rough song that could perhaps travel up there, where he couldn’t go. He wondered if his father had cried when he had seen his mother slaughtered. That night in 1760, Qimugtauyagaq had hid in the tundra; staring up to the sky to catch a glimpse of the moon, but it was not there. There had only been darkness.

I wonder who killed Ziio this time. More white men? Other Inuit? Because that's gonna be something, meeting a random soldier or whaler who decided to torch the place. Or is it going to be a missionary? 

Amazing how Connor can go from Inuit village to Inuit village without getting into fights. This assumption that someone from one Native tribe can go into another no problem is the legacy of the 'Noble Savage' myth: that there were no fights or genocide before the white man. It's almost silly how Antecanis writes these people, and I'm cringing just reading it. Under any other circumstance this would be seen as 'racist', but since it's a father-son fuck fic, I guess it's acceptable.

In any case, it's the shit history that's getting me more than the incest - and that hasn't even started yet. 

At the beginning of Chapter 2, we learn that Connor is interacting with Yup'ik people. Their language are part of the Inuit language group and they are genetically similar to Eastern Inuit peoples, but they are not the same group. Yu'pik are from Alaska, not Eastern Canada. It is established Connor is interacting with people from Iqaluit, which is on the other side of the continent. 

The tundra was peaceful as he filled his grass basket with the brightly orange berries that were overripe and lush. He had taken off his parka and enjoyed the gentle breeze rustling through the stiff tundra grass. Elders said that if the tundra was getting a thick grass parka, it meant that a cold winter would be coming.

I suspect this is summer, because that's really the only time when you can pick berries. The berry Antecanis is referring to is the arctic cranberry, which can be picked all year round. See here. Parkas are thick fur coats meant for sub-zero temperatures. However, it can get hot up North during the summer, and high twenties or even thirty degree temperatures (in Celsius, of course) are common. But if it really is winter, then Connor shouldn't be taking his coat off at all. If he plans to head north or south, he won't be able to because the ocean will freeze up. 

Ratonhnhaké:ton did not yet know where to spend this winter. He had no kin to return to. He knew many families in nearby villages, but he yearned to travel further North. This area here was slowly starting to change, but he knew that up North, there were many villages still… the way he had grown up with. 

The further North you go, the less inhabited the area is going to be. Food will grow scarcer and it's unlikely the more isolated communities will see you as a friend. If you are not planning out your winters, you are asking for hypothermia and starvation. 

By this time, British, Norwegian and Russian explorers were already whaling in the far North, so it isn't as isolated as Antecanis thinks it is.

He had heard rumours that the Russians were trying to settle further down south, but he did not know whether or not that was true. He knew, however, that the white men were travelling further into Yup'ik lands. Some for trade, some to spread their religion, and others for fame and... power.

Again, they were in Alaska, not Eastern Canada. Yu'pik did not inhabit Iqaluit. Did Antecanis look at a map?

For a moment, Ratonhnhaké:ton sat down; enjoying the warmth of the early fall sun, and the taste of the tart berries melting on his tongue. The awareness of someone stirring up memories of the Agalikmiut was ceasing, and the young man was glad for it. He needed to properly prepare for the hunt, and the animals would avoid him if his mind was filled with death and darkness.

Autumn comes quickly up there and I would not advise taking off your parka. Also, having your mind set on 'death and darkness' isn't preparing for a hunt because your mind isn't properly focused. 

He traded his old knife for some pieces of antler, a pair of mittens and a small wooden bowl carved from a single piece of driftwood by the hunter’s wife herself.

...not the best thing to give away when you need it to hack through bone. Just sayin'. 

Ratonhnhaké:ton could have become part of someone’s kin. He had relations with other hunters and other families; just because he was not related to them by blood did not mean that he could not be their kin or become their kin through marriage.

They know you're an outsider and they will view you as one who will dilute their blood. Not only are you not Inuit, you're Metis - half white, half Native. They will never see you as one of their own. 

Connor has an 'unusual' dream that involves him being a wolf and having a bear harness him and use him as a mush dog up the mountain. Once Connor enters the bear's house, it is revealed the bear is a man. The man then says, 'They say dogs are wise. I will tame you.' This is an allusion to Haytham having sex with his own son - Connor means 'dog lover', and he, being the wild wolf in the tundra, will be tamed by a man for his own use.

Not as clever when you really think about it. Spoils the whole thing, really.

He had raised his hands as a sign of being unarmed, and Ratonhnhaké:ton saw that it was a white man. He had never seen them this far out in the tundra and up the mountain, and he immediately realized that this was the person who had been looking for information about the Agalikmiut.

*sigh* I suspect this is going to be a repetitive thing: Antecanis is confusing the Yu'piq with Eastern Canadian Inuits. And I am going to repeat this as necessary: by this point, they had already encountered white people. Norwegians, the Norse, and the English had already traveled up there. The Norse are the most famous example as they once settled Greenland. There is no excuse for this butchery of facts and history.  

His clothing was very different from Yup’ik tradition and even from what the Russians were wearing, but here and there, Ratonhnhaké:ton could see elements that had been augmented and changed to be more suitable for this environment. 

Haytham should truly wear better clothing for up north. Leather is nice, but fur is what keeps you warm. And again - Connor should know what white people look like. There's no way he could NOT have met Norwegians. 

Haytham begins his conversation with Connor with the 'I have an offer you can't refuse' type of argument, and in doing so presents Connor with an item from his childhood. Antecanis then wrote this:

He could not imagine why a white man would want to hear about the Agalikmiut. And why from him. The other could not possibly know that he had been there; that once, he had been one of the Agalikmiut. 

Yu'piq =/= Inuit. Again, they are related but they are different peoples. Iqaluit is in Eastern Canada, and Yu'piq inhabited Alaska and Siberia. This is not an accident; this is deliberate. White men have already gone up there, for fuck's sake!

“Your friend, the Russian trader I talked to, he said you helped him when some hunters tried to rob him. These hunters are part of a larger group of fur traders who are trying to expand further North. They have forced coastal villages to work for them and gather sea otter furs for them.”

1. Wrong side of the continent. 

2. Hudson's Bay Company, that is all.

3. Whaling. Look up arctic whaling, for God's sake. 

He finally released his hand from the bundle, and as he shifted away, he reached out to brush his fingers over Ratonhnhaké:ton's hand resting in his lap; as if to reassure himself that the other was truly there. It was an odd little touch; and the jolt that it sent through Ratonhnhaké:ton was unlike the one he usually felt when people touched him. 

This cliché is always a doozy when I see it. Especially with how predictable it is. 

In Chapter 3, Antencais writes that Connor continues to have metaphorical dreams featuring Haytham and himself, and notes that Connor cannot read English. This is strange, as Ziio spoke English - and so does Haytham. Did Haytham stay around long enough in the tundra to become fluent in Inuit? In the first chapter, it's hinted that he knows some words, but it's never said he became fully fluent. In any case this would mean Connor is nearly illiterate. He knows Cyrillic, but once again, the Russians occupied the Pacific, not the Atlantic.

There were very few English traders around here, but two years ago, he had spent a winter down south at a major trading post where some white men from a place called Scotland had taught him English. Though Ratonhnhaké:ton was aware that the accent of Haytham Kenway was quite different than how the Scottish hunters had spoken.

Does this woman not know who Henry Hudson is? Really? Really? 

On this wintry day, Ratonhnhaké:ton reached the outpost down shortly after noon. He had been glad to reach it before the darkness startled to settle in – the sky looked like it would snow again later, and perhaps even violently so. He wondered if Haytham Kenway would still be here – he had said he would leave once the ice allowed for him to do so, and the ice had certainly allowed travel for a week now. 

Not in the beginning of winter. The ice will block any passage out into the open ocean and you'll be frozen in place before you make it to warmer waters. You now have to wait until spring. 

The map Haytham had given to him showed the expanding Russian presence South of islands noted as Алеутские острова, of which Ratonhnhaké:ton had not heard before – but he had never ventured that far South. 

Because you're on the wrong side of the continent.  

He couldn’t forget those ocean-grey eyes, and the way his skin had tingled where the other had touched him. He had never liked anyone’s touch, but for some strange reason, this had left him yearning. 

Yearning for daddy's cock, alright.  

There were some Russian men who had married local women, and many young traders were the children of these unions.

Wrong side of the continent~~~

When he arrived at the outpost, he fed his sled dogs and then sought out someone who might be able to tell him whether or not Haytham Kenway had ever been here, or maybe still was. The outpost was the biggest of its kind in this area, and Ratonhnhaké:ton hadn’t been here in years. 

How would you know it's the biggest outpost if you've never been there?

There were many people, not just whites, Yup’ik, and their children, but some of the Natives further down south and east, or so Ratonhnhaké:ton guessed. Sometimes he wondered if any of them knew the lands from which his mother had once upon a time fled. 

No. We know from genetic data that southern Natives didn't make it that far up north. 

Here is the admission that there are already whites in the area, despite Antecanis writing earlier that whites really didn't travel around those parts. She cannot remain consistent. 

He wondered what he was even doing out here – rushing after a man he had met once; getting himself in danger to chase after someone who he had met in a dream, perhaps.

You're telling me, dude. Haytham told him he'd wait until the first winter came - for whatever reason, he couldn't tell him to meet him before winter came - and now Connor is on a goose chase to look for him. 

He jumped from the sled; allowing his dogs the seek cover behind it as he rushed forward to the person at the fire – noticing how snow and frost covered the navy blue fabric, and how the other's broad frame was shaking. The older man turned towards him; his lips blue.

Ratonhnhaké:ton hesitated, drawing closer. His fingers brushed over the stiff, frozen fabric. “How long ago did you fall into the water?”, he asked. 

Why did Haytham go into the water? Did he fall through a thin sheet of ice? It's never explained. Unless, of course, Haytham deliberately took an arctic bath because that's the smart thing to do. 

Connor uses grass to rub warmth into Haytham's joints. Unfortunately, they are still exposed to the open air and it is a miracle (must be those Isu genes!) that Haytham wasn't frostbitten. When you rub warmth into someone suffering from hypothermia, you need to do it slowly as the cold blood will send the heart into shock.  

He allowed himself to get lost in the other’s bright eyes, for just a moment forgetting about the blizzard approaching them rapidly as he felt his skin tingle where Haytham had touched him.

Sir, this is a blizzard. This is no time to ogle and give blowjobs.  

In Chapter 4, it is discovered that Haytham fell through the ice. Gotta give him credit: he managed to crawl up out of the hole, get onto solid land, and build a fire. And didn't think of making a shelter beforehand while going out into a hostile environment. 

A soft shudder ran through him, as he wondered why the other was leaning in like this – was he trying to somehow warm himself? However, there just wasn’t a whole lot of space in their shelter, so perhaps it was simply through necessity that Haytham was suddenly so close.

You just answered your own question. And you need to huddle together because Haytham is suffering from hypothermia. Duh. 

“Do you know what is happening down in the South, in the lands that my fellow Englishmen and others have seized with violence from the ones living there before?”

Ratonhnhaké:ton was briefly puzzled by the other’s question, and only replied after a moment of silence, “I know of it. I know what information travels with the missionaries, and the fur traders.”

He failed to mention that his mother had actually been one of the many who had fled from those conflicts. It was not a piece of information he often volunteered to strangers. 

I am really in awe of these contradictions. Connor doesn't know about anything happening down south, but he just so happens to know Russians because he has magical teleportation abilities. Let's not forget Ziio didn't come across any conflict as a single woman on her way up north! 

 “White men will come here, too, many of them. Maybe not Frenchmen or Englishmen, though they may come, too, if there is any money to be found here. The Russians are trading with the Chinese in the East, and the demand for sea otter fur his high. The best hunters are your hunters. You know what is happening; I told you, and you have verified it, and you have come here to join me. We have to stop them from moving further North.”

You know, when I figured out most fanficcers did not do any research when writing their fics, or limited research, I was surprised. Back in the day, to create a good fic you needed to do research. You need to do it for essays, research papers, and general novels. Not doig it leads to situations like these: where an author genuinely does not know about Norse, Norwegian, and English settlements from Hudson's Bay and Baffin Island. This ignorance will cripple your story as it creates an unfixable plot hole. It is embarrassing to see. 

For a moment, they remained silent. There was much to discuss – where exactly they were headed; what they would do once they got there, and why exactly Haytham had found it necessary to equip the younger hunter with a weapon of stealth.

 I don't know why Haytham is up there anyway, so these excuses are as good as any. 

It would be a conversation that Ratonhnhaké:ton wanted to have in person - he wanted to watch the other's reactions, and assess how much he truly trusted him. And why, for some odd reason, he seemed so entirely willing to follow the other wherever he went...

1. You're already having this conversation in person.  

2. You've only known each other for a few hours.

But this man… there was something about him; something about his touch that the young hunter found… pleasant. Intriguing, perhaps. Lightly, he ran his fingers over the other’s hand – only brushing over the other’s skin, and yet, it was a shy, questioning invitation to touch him more.

 Ah yes, these  clichés. 'Something about someone that really means something'. And it truly does, as eight paragraphs are dedicated to a series of kisses. Eight. My rule is this: if you can't accomplish an action in three or four sentences, you are dragging things on. In Antecanis' case, she spends half of a chapter on two men kissing that have only met each other twice. Talk about speedrunning. 

By Chapter 5, the moon metaphors start to get increasingly tiresome:

This morning after the blizzard, Ratonhnhaké:ton stared up at the pale face of the moon. A shudder ran through him as he felt watched. He hugged himself absent-mindedly; his dark eyes trying to make out the face of the moon as clouds rushed past it. He could feel his father’s presence, and for the first time he was absolutely sure about it.

Well, yeah. Because you were locking lips with him in the tent. No biggie. 

Do I need to mention that you're outside in the tundra in sub zero weather? Did you put a coat on? Did you bother to check your dogs? No, no I don't think so. 

 A calmness overcame him as he averted his gaze – he would accompany Haytham Kenway. He seemed to have his father’s blessing – perhaps he could help his people if he forged this alliance, and perhaps… he could find his father; see him again like this, up there, watching him.

Oh, my sweet summer child. How you know nothing. All those dreams and foreboding will come to naught as you lust after your father's cock.

They had been travelling for five days now, and Ratonhnhaké:ton guessed they would reach the next outpost in two or three days, depending on the weather. Haytham had explained more about the mission he had ‘recruited’ the young hunter for. It was a plan of violence – an attempt to stop the Russian sea otter fur traders moving northwards. 

This is what happens when your strength lies in pretty words but not logic. Haytham isn't an idiot. If he knew a storm was approaching - and it is predictable, because we're in the beginning of winter - he would have stayed at the outpost and waited for Connor to come to him. After all, it was Connor who delayed their original rendezvous for reasons unknown, and Haytham decided to take go skinny dipping in sub arctic water because Reasons. 

I still do not grasp this plot. Haytham wants to stop sea otter traders. Why? There is more than sea otter fur to trade up there: there is walrus, polar bear (AKA snow bears), narwhals, killer whales, seals, and arctic foxes. Besides, they are on the wrong side of the continent, because it is clearly established they are in Eastern Canada, not Alaska. If they are, Antecanis has to explain how they managed to trek across 3,903 kilometres (I'm using distance from Iqaluit to Anchorage, Alaska for reference) on foot, across virgin, unexplored forest. It's too spectacular to believe. 

However, what had surprised Ratonhnhaké:ton was that Haytham did not seem to have the intention of finding more allies in this conflict – instead, he had proposed a raid on the traders' harbour on an island in the South with just the two of them. Apparently, there was a weapon storage, and a prison where they kept family members of Native leaders; blackmailing them into procuring the pelts for their overseas trade. 

I do not get this reasoning. We know from real world history the unmapped, dangerous terrain forced the French and English to team up with the Iroquois, leading them to become the uncontested fur traders in the area. The Hudson's Bay Company is one such example of a company that has been in existence for 350 years. Haytham would not be able to stop these companies; in fact, the Templars would have a good reason to be involved with them because of the generated revenue and a way to smooth over European-Native relations. 

Surely, Ratonhnhaké:ton thought, Haytham would find more men to support him; for various reasons, really. And even if he took only one other person with him – he could have found someone more experienced in these matters, right? Ratonhnhaké:ton reckoned that it still, somehow, had something to do with the Agalikmiut, and Haytham’s obscure interest in that old story. The young hunter wanted to know why the Englishman was so interested in it, but he did not want to bring it up.

I am going to take a guess and say this is due to a Piece of Eden or a Temple, but if it comes to neither than this is one huge goose chase. If you are writing a story and there is not even a plot embedded in it, you're just writing a smutty diary entry. Why should readers stick around if you aren't even creating anything?  

Connor is even denser than I realized, because he doesn't think the English are capable of going that far up North. Even by speaking to other groups he'd realize the Norse once occupied Greenland. It's just bad history. 

“We are alike.”, Haytham answered after a moment.

Ratonhnhaké:ton scoffed at that. “You are a kassaq, we are not alike. You’re not one of us.”

Haytham raised an eyebrow, and his gaze was piercing. The low flickering of the flames gave them a warmer quality – they looked more like gems now rather than a rainy day out at sea. Ratonhnhaké:ton had to force himself to look away; worried the other could see more of him than he would like if he continued looking back.

Does Antecanis think Inuit peoples think all white people are the same? Cossacks are a Slavic ethnic group, yes, but there are also Tatar Cossacks and Kazakh Cossacks. They should not be compared to the English at all, because they are a Steppe people. And they are way, way too far away from Alaska. 

Connor would be better off calling Haytham a Norseman. Even though the English and the Norse are separate peoples as well, they share a Germanic language group and some ethnic heritage. How can Antecanis possibly confuse these groups?

“You are not Yup’ik, either.”, Haytham said quietly.

Impulsively, Ratonhnhaké:ton sprang to his feet - a burst of offense and anger rushing through him. It wasn’t the first time his belonging had been questioned. “I am Yup’ik. I have followed the teachings all my life. I have hunted, breathed and thought like a Yup’ik. I am.”

Look I get you need some form of argument to build tension, but Haytham is right here. Connor is not and will never be Yu'pik, because he's a Mohawk. He knows this from his mother. He knows he looks different from the Inuit. You may be Yu'pik culturally, but you instinctively knew you are from the South. What's the point of getting angry?

The Englishman cocked his head; more amused than irritated. For a moment, it seemed as if he wanted to challenge the other’s words, but when he spoke, his words were understanding rather than hostile. “When we met out there-” He gestured vaguely towards the lowland tundra. “I knew you before you even said a word. We are alike.” His gaze was intense, and Ratonhnhaké:ton shuddered. He had never felt this… seen. 

Connor should really know the difference between Russians, Cossacks and the English, because the Russians did not colonize Eastern Canada. They would have had to trek through British waters and there was no way the British Navy would allow that. They expanded eastward through Siberia and the Pacific.  

“Whatever you think separates us - here we are. Just us – by choice and necessity. I wanted you to join me, and you did.” The flicker of the small fire illuminated Haytham's features warmly still, and Ratonhnhaké:ton had the urge to reach out and touch him, as if to reassure himself that it was true, and he was not socializing with an ircenrraat; an other-than-human tundra person. He thought of the first night they had spent in the snow shelter, and the way the other’s lips had felt like on his own…

I still do not know what the necessity is here. What is so special about the fur traders? Did anyone ask questions or does it have to be me?  

At times, Ratonhnhaké:ton regretted his decision to have stayed with Haytham Kenway. This was mainly owed to the fact that the other had a strange power over him – an influence the young man did not want to trust the mysterious stranger with. 

You willingly chose to go with him, and you didn't even ask the particulars of the deal. Of course the other guy has power over you: he's your dad, and he stirs the power in your loins.  

And yet, he remembered that morning after the blizzard – when he had stepped out of the tent, and for a moment, he had felt his father’s presence when he had caught a glimpse of the moon. He carried this feeling of connection like a treasure in his heart, and he had carved a little tuunraq out of antler to join the other one on his parka – a reminder that he was not alone, but that his father was indeed watching over him. Of that, Ratonhnhaké:ton was now more sure than ever.

Aside from the obvious bear-wolf dreams Connor is having that's a foreshadowing of the eventual father-son fuck fest, Connor has to be pretty dense not to see the resemblance in he and Haytham's face. They are both around the same height, they have a similar build and gait, and Connor should suspect there's a relation in there if Haytham sought him of all people to aid in his quest. 

When the Englishman negotiated with the guard, Ratonhnhaké:ton could already feel an odd dissatisfaction with the fact that Haytham’s attention was shifting – there were more people and more matters demanding Haytham’s focus.

Enough with your petty jealousy. It's only been eight days, and you knew you were heading to the settlement. 

Ratonhnhaké:ton had no illusions about the fact that Haytham’s influence here in the outpost would outweigh his own – despite the presence and influence of many Native peoples, this was an institution of white people, and he had sometimes encountered military forces in the outposts, too. It was rare, though, so far up North – he had heard it was worse in areas further inland, where the trade was more extensive, and the forts were disputed between different groups of white people.

I'm shocked, really shocked, Ziio told her son nothing about the land where she came from. More so that Connor has never heard about the whaling trade or arctic expeditions in general. Don't let the 'white man bad' distract you from the terrible history in this.

Somehow, the knowledge that the other was amusing himself with others in this very moment while he had seemingly forgotten about Ratonhnhaké:ton left a stinging sensation in the young hunter’s guts, no matter how much he told himself that it was not surprising. 

Petty jealousy is never a good trait to have, especially when the reader knows it is unwarranted. I'm supposed to believe Connor already cemented a connection with Haytham, yet aside from the electric current description and bear-wolf allegory, there's nothing here selling it to me. And yes, I am saying this on an incest fic. I do have some tolerance. 

 He eyed the older man as he regained his composure; shaking off the bedding and glancing at the food Haytham had in a bundle in his lap. It was a mixture of dried meat and fish, some bread and probably oil. A rather standard meal for winter in these parts.

You'd need to import grain and I guarantee you that bread is going to go stale pretty quick unless you have stores for it.

The young hunter kept close to Haytham – glancing around the room and trying to gauge why exactly they were here. His gaze stopped at a small corner table, where a young Native man had placed an arm around a blushing young white trapper – whispering things in his ears, and it was rather clear of what nature those whispers were. 

Interracial gay pairings! Always gotta love them. Anyways, wasn't this already addressed in the first chapter?  

But, in fact, Ratonhnhaké:ton was not flustered by the knowledge of this… place being frequented in these ways. He had seen places like this in the few other outposts he had been at – hidden backrooms like this, where certain goods were traded away from the prying eyes of the commanders or missionaries; places where men engaged with each other in those ways, and, most importantly for Ratonhnhaké:ton, places where Natives and Yup’ik could meet, barter, drink and socialize. 

Here's another problem Antecanis doesn't realize: the introduction of alcohol to Native peoples essentially ruined them. South Amerindians managed to produce a watered down beer from corn, and can drunk hard rum pretty well, but Northern Americans have high rates of alcoholism and diabetes because they did not evolve to consume large amounts of alcohol. 

He tried to concentrate on why they were here – which, in fact, he had only a vague idea about since Haytham had not been particularly forthcoming in that regard. 

Me too. Still have no idea where this plot is going or what it is in the first place.  

Haytham had apparently set up the meeting on the previous evening, but why exactly he wanted Ratonhnhaké:ton to tag along this time, the young man was unsure about. Because, apparently, Haytham did not value his socializing skills.

I'd say you're about a week late. Haytham told you to meet up with him about...oh...before winter started. Ho hum. 

Haytham already told you who he chose you. You have a particular set of skills. 

Guide. For some reason, Ratonhnhaké:ton was displeased by the sound of that. In a sense it was perhaps true – out there, he was more experienced and knowledgeable than Haytham, whose realm was… this. But… Was that really all? The young man did his best not to sulk – relegated to being a guide. Were they not working together? He wasn't some kassaq's fucking guide.

Weren't you suspicious of what Haytham wanted from you? Didn't you wonder why he chose you to begin with? He told you he's not a Cossack but an Englishman. What part of it don't you get?

Haytham cocked his head; his bright eyes amused as he leaned onto the table. “Indeed. My request precedes me. It was mentioned that you have had some experience with the way things are run in the sea otter pelt trade right now.”

The young man put down the half-assembled musket and held Haytham’s gaze. “Why?”

The Englishman looked at him thoughtfully. “I want to rob those damn Russians and make some money off of it myself.” 

Has Haytham ever heard of the Hudson's Bay Company? He'd make a fortune there, and Henry Hudson already mapped out a route through Hudson's Bay. This is, quite frankly, dumb as Hell. The Russians are on the Pacific, remember. Not the Atlantic. 

Ratonhnhaké:ton did his best not to react to that – it was the first time he had heard anything of the sort – indeed, Haytham had never mentioned trying to make money off of this, and his evasiveness when Ratonhnhaké:ton had asked him about his reasons behind his interest in this matter was in stark contrast to his clear words now. The young hunter did not take him for someone interested in making a mere profit – particularly as Haytham had spoken of aiding Native communities against the Russian traders.

Why not? He's an Englishman, and there are ventures to pursue up there...what part isn't clicking? 

Ratonhnhaké:ton growled. “If you expect me to blindly follow you, you are mistaken, kassaq. I will not extent my loyalty to someone who is aiming to manipulate me for his own gain.”

Too late. You should know Haytham always manipulates people. 

Haytham stopped to glance at him; brows furrowed. “I have not lied to you, Connor. If I have not told you all, then I have my reasons for that, and those reasons are not malicious as you seem to think. If you truly think so poorly of my intentions, why have you agreed to aid me?” 

Haytham didn't actually say anything about his intentions. He just wanted Connor's skill sets to help him with something. What that 'thing' is, I don't know. It's up in the air like the myriad of moon metaphors. 

The young man clenched his jaw. “Is it true what you told him in there? You’re in it to make a profit?”

Well, yeah. DIdn't you assume all white men were in it for the money, Connor? 

Haytham made a face. It seemed as if accusing him of this was a greater offence than implying that he was a liar and manipulator. “Of course not.”, he said with clear irritation. “It was what he needed to hear to give us the information we need.”

“Just like you told me what you thought I needed to hear?”, Ratonhnhaké:ton snapped; turning on his heels and storming off. Why was his heart so heavy, and his mind so chaotic? 

You tell me. You've only known this man for a week, yet you're acting as if you've known him for months or years. This is what happens when you speed run romance: you need a lot of skill and practice or else it's not going to work. Connor already knew he'd be an outsider in the settlement; he was among white people. He already doesn't want to communicate with them, so why is he getting offended he wasn't asked a question? Shouldn't be be more focused on what Haytham wants from him, since he still doesn't know the man's motives? Can he ask questions some time?

Chaos is a ladder, and someone needs to knock it over. 

I'm going to split these posts up five-by-five, so the next instalment will start with Chapter 6. We'll see who shoots at the moon first.