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Title: The Road
Fandom: Assassin’s Creed II
Pairing: Ezio/ Leonardo
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ezio discovers that there are consequences to his actions, and the road to redemption is never easy.
This story continues on from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kissmytypos’s fic, “Good Intentions”, which can be read here.
A/N: My sincere thanks tokissmytypos for permission to write the sequel, and espereth for patiently beta’ing this chapter. Thanks to everyone reading this as well!
Chapter Three.
1
Ezio wove his way through the crowd, tugging on the edge of his hood to further conceal his face. Once inconspicuous, he clambered up the side of the Campanile di San Marco, the tallest viewpoint Venezia had to offer, and settled in a corner of the loggia.
He slid the right blade out of the bracer, examining the flecks of blood from his last assassination. As he wiped them off with a rag, flinging the bloodied cloth to the side, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth; he could not help but remember the gentle rebuke Leonardo had given him about keeping his weapons clean to prevent rusting and studied the blade again. Besides its deadly utility, it had been made with care and precision, the designs etched into the blade and bracer a hallmark of the crafter’s artisan attention to detail.
Ezio sighed. Ever since he had parted on poor terms with the artist, his nomadic lifestyle had begun to take its toll. His battles seemed harsher, the sun seemed to beat relentlessly upon his back, and he wondered if all that he had done to conceal the truth from Leonardo, to shield him from pain and hurt, resulted in the opposite effect.
He took a bite from an apple he had stolen from a fruit stand. It was too sour.
That was the other thing.
The fruit was too sour, the bread was too hard, it was all too everything. He hurled the apple off the side of the tower, with a muttered expletive. For the first time, he realized just how important the young inventor had been, not just for deciphering codex pages, or creating contraptions that helped him in his missions.
No. He was more than that.
Leonardo had provided him security, a haven at which he could rest, and trusted him so implicitly that Ezio had felt flattered that he could count Leonardo as his friend.
I wonder if he still thinks of me, after all this time, Ezio thought, as he gazed out upon the vista of the floating city.
Perhaps it would be better for Leonardo if he did not. For both of them.
2
“Stop that.”
Ezio froze, dropping the wooden block he had been fidgeting with. Antonio was proud of his wooden miniature of Venezia, a relic from his days at the Gilda dei Ladri, and it now had its own table of honor at the palazzo. With a short grimace at the fumble, Ezio retrieved the block and slid it back into its original place within the model.
“For a wanted man, you choose a poor place to keep a low profile,” Antonio noted, as he perused the books on a nearby shelf. “The thieves’ guild, no less.”
“I just need somewhere to concentrate,” Ezio answered casually. “I will leave as soon as I decode this.” A Codex page lay unfurled across the table in front of the wooden model, as Ezio sank lower in his chair. It was difficult to focus on his task when the candelabrum behind him threw his shadow across the page. Antonio had mounted it in the corner of the room, to mimic the ambience in the thieves’ old hideout.
“You mean, as soon as it is safe for you to walk the streets of Venezia again.”
With a noncommittal grunt, Ezio stared at the parchment before him. He had tried moving different phrases around, transposing every other word, but nothing was working. How had Leonardo always managed to decipher them with such ease and skill?
“One would think your first priority after killing a major official would be something other than an age-old document.” The leader of the thieves’ guild pulled a dusty tome from the shelf, studying the cover.
“Speak for yourself,” Ezio replied testily. He stared at the Codex page for another while, and in an act of pure desperation, showed it to Antonio. “Can you read this?”
Antonio examined the faded parchment, then shook his head as he handed it back. “I can make neither head nor tail of this, Ezio. Perhaps Leonardo could—”
“Send one of your thieves to run this down to him, then.”
“I haven’t the men to spare for that.”
Ezio threw his hands up in frustration, then pushed himself away from the table. As he stood, he began to pace the room in tight, measured steps. “I need this now.”
“There…” Antonio’s voice trailed off, as if hesitant to make the next suggestion. “There is another way, my friend.” He set his book carefully on the desk, giving Ezio a tentative glance.
Ezio paused, then shook his head. “No. It is impossible. I cannot,” he said frankly, resuming his pacing of the room. He was well aware of what the thief wished to propose. “We have been over this before.”
“You did not have an encrypted page you needed help with then,” the thief said pointedly. “Besides, it has been two years already, I cannot see why you will not make peace with the man.”
“He…” Ezio swallowed thickly. “He will not forgive me.”
“Well, while it is true that perhaps running away was not the best—”
“I did not run away,” hissed Ezio. Until now, he had managed to avoid discussing the specifics of his last meeting with Leonardo. The thieves had maintained an air of uneasy neutrality on the matter, but this was the first time Antonio deliberately broached the details—details that Ezio had not disclosed.
Rosa had slipped into the room to see what the commotion was all about and realized the gist of the conversation. “I told you to talk to him before, thinking you were better than this. But what did you do? You ran from him, like a frightened child,” she jeered. “Now the heralds will sing your praises, laud you as Ezio Auditore, the coward!”
An indignant cry escaped Ezio’s throat. “He told you I ran?”
“Rosa, please.” Antonio held up his hand. Rosa stood motionless for a moment, mouth set as if to protest the gesture for silence, then gave a disdainful shake of her head. She left quietly, but not before shooting the assassin a murderous glare over her shoulder.
“Ezio,” Antonio began again, “do not be so hard on him. We had to coax the story out of him slowly.”
“I’m sure he could not wait to tell you. Perhaps over a cup of caffé?” Ezio replied, rolling his eyes.
“How nice it must be,” said Antonio dryly, ignoring the jibe, “to have a friend who holds you in such high regard that he refuses to tarnish your reputation even under duress.”
Ezio stared at him darkly. “You threatened him?”
Antonio raised a brow in puzzlement, then broke out into a grin as he clapped Ezio on the back. “Good, good! That is the Ezio I know, worried for Leonardo’s welfare. No, we charmed the story from him with the promise of new paints and materials from foreign lands with the next shipment.”
Clearly, Leonardo’s will could be broken in unconventional ways, and Ezio could not help but allow a nostalgic smile as he mused upon this. When he looked up again, he noticed that Antonio was still grinning broadly.
“That was not an admission,” he said, irritated at how easily he had been baited into reacting.
The thief chuckled. “Call it what you like, but it is easy to see you still care for him. You are fooling no one but yourself, Ezio.”
Unsure of what to say, Ezio remained silent, turning away so the other man could not read his expression. Antonio came up behind him and laid a hand gently on his shoulder. “If for nothing else, do this for him. He was your closest friend, was he not? He deserves this much.” Antonio paused. “I cannot bear to watch two of my closest comrades destroy themselves like this.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have invited him for tea, would you?” Ezio asked, narrowing his eyes as he turned back to the thief.
Antonio spread his palms innocently. “No, this time the onus falls on you to make things right. Can you do that, or have I misjudged you, Auditore?”
Ezio noticed the deliberate omission of his first name, but had not noticed Antonio walking him to the entrance of the Palazzo della Seta and gently pushing him outside, until it was too late.
“Take care, Ezio. I await word of your success.”
(tbc - Chapter Four.)
Fandom: Assassin’s Creed II
Pairing: Ezio/ Leonardo
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ezio discovers that there are consequences to his actions, and the road to redemption is never easy.
This story continues on from
kissmytypos’s fic, “Good Intentions”, which can be read here.A/N: My sincere thanks to
kissmytypos for permission to write the sequel, and espereth for patiently beta’ing this chapter. Thanks to everyone reading this as well!Ezio wove his way through the crowd, tugging on the edge of his hood to further conceal his face. Once inconspicuous, he clambered up the side of the Campanile di San Marco, the tallest viewpoint Venezia had to offer, and settled in a corner of the loggia.
He slid the right blade out of the bracer, examining the flecks of blood from his last assassination. As he wiped them off with a rag, flinging the bloodied cloth to the side, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth; he could not help but remember the gentle rebuke Leonardo had given him about keeping his weapons clean to prevent rusting and studied the blade again. Besides its deadly utility, it had been made with care and precision, the designs etched into the blade and bracer a hallmark of the crafter’s artisan attention to detail.
Ezio sighed. Ever since he had parted on poor terms with the artist, his nomadic lifestyle had begun to take its toll. His battles seemed harsher, the sun seemed to beat relentlessly upon his back, and he wondered if all that he had done to conceal the truth from Leonardo, to shield him from pain and hurt, resulted in the opposite effect.
He took a bite from an apple he had stolen from a fruit stand. It was too sour.
That was the other thing.
The fruit was too sour, the bread was too hard, it was all too everything. He hurled the apple off the side of the tower, with a muttered expletive. For the first time, he realized just how important the young inventor had been, not just for deciphering codex pages, or creating contraptions that helped him in his missions.
No. He was more than that.
Leonardo had provided him security, a haven at which he could rest, and trusted him so implicitly that Ezio had felt flattered that he could count Leonardo as his friend.
I wonder if he still thinks of me, after all this time, Ezio thought, as he gazed out upon the vista of the floating city.
Perhaps it would be better for Leonardo if he did not. For both of them.
“Stop that.”
Ezio froze, dropping the wooden block he had been fidgeting with. Antonio was proud of his wooden miniature of Venezia, a relic from his days at the Gilda dei Ladri, and it now had its own table of honor at the palazzo. With a short grimace at the fumble, Ezio retrieved the block and slid it back into its original place within the model.
“For a wanted man, you choose a poor place to keep a low profile,” Antonio noted, as he perused the books on a nearby shelf. “The thieves’ guild, no less.”
“I just need somewhere to concentrate,” Ezio answered casually. “I will leave as soon as I decode this.” A Codex page lay unfurled across the table in front of the wooden model, as Ezio sank lower in his chair. It was difficult to focus on his task when the candelabrum behind him threw his shadow across the page. Antonio had mounted it in the corner of the room, to mimic the ambience in the thieves’ old hideout.
“You mean, as soon as it is safe for you to walk the streets of Venezia again.”
With a noncommittal grunt, Ezio stared at the parchment before him. He had tried moving different phrases around, transposing every other word, but nothing was working. How had Leonardo always managed to decipher them with such ease and skill?
“One would think your first priority after killing a major official would be something other than an age-old document.” The leader of the thieves’ guild pulled a dusty tome from the shelf, studying the cover.
“Speak for yourself,” Ezio replied testily. He stared at the Codex page for another while, and in an act of pure desperation, showed it to Antonio. “Can you read this?”
Antonio examined the faded parchment, then shook his head as he handed it back. “I can make neither head nor tail of this, Ezio. Perhaps Leonardo could—”
“Send one of your thieves to run this down to him, then.”
“I haven’t the men to spare for that.”
Ezio threw his hands up in frustration, then pushed himself away from the table. As he stood, he began to pace the room in tight, measured steps. “I need this now.”
“There…” Antonio’s voice trailed off, as if hesitant to make the next suggestion. “There is another way, my friend.” He set his book carefully on the desk, giving Ezio a tentative glance.
Ezio paused, then shook his head. “No. It is impossible. I cannot,” he said frankly, resuming his pacing of the room. He was well aware of what the thief wished to propose. “We have been over this before.”
“You did not have an encrypted page you needed help with then,” the thief said pointedly. “Besides, it has been two years already, I cannot see why you will not make peace with the man.”
“He…” Ezio swallowed thickly. “He will not forgive me.”
“Well, while it is true that perhaps running away was not the best—”
“I did not run away,” hissed Ezio. Until now, he had managed to avoid discussing the specifics of his last meeting with Leonardo. The thieves had maintained an air of uneasy neutrality on the matter, but this was the first time Antonio deliberately broached the details—details that Ezio had not disclosed.
Rosa had slipped into the room to see what the commotion was all about and realized the gist of the conversation. “I told you to talk to him before, thinking you were better than this. But what did you do? You ran from him, like a frightened child,” she jeered. “Now the heralds will sing your praises, laud you as Ezio Auditore, the coward!”
An indignant cry escaped Ezio’s throat. “He told you I ran?”
“Rosa, please.” Antonio held up his hand. Rosa stood motionless for a moment, mouth set as if to protest the gesture for silence, then gave a disdainful shake of her head. She left quietly, but not before shooting the assassin a murderous glare over her shoulder.
“Ezio,” Antonio began again, “do not be so hard on him. We had to coax the story out of him slowly.”
“I’m sure he could not wait to tell you. Perhaps over a cup of caffé?” Ezio replied, rolling his eyes.
“How nice it must be,” said Antonio dryly, ignoring the jibe, “to have a friend who holds you in such high regard that he refuses to tarnish your reputation even under duress.”
Ezio stared at him darkly. “You threatened him?”
Antonio raised a brow in puzzlement, then broke out into a grin as he clapped Ezio on the back. “Good, good! That is the Ezio I know, worried for Leonardo’s welfare. No, we charmed the story from him with the promise of new paints and materials from foreign lands with the next shipment.”
Clearly, Leonardo’s will could be broken in unconventional ways, and Ezio could not help but allow a nostalgic smile as he mused upon this. When he looked up again, he noticed that Antonio was still grinning broadly.
“That was not an admission,” he said, irritated at how easily he had been baited into reacting.
The thief chuckled. “Call it what you like, but it is easy to see you still care for him. You are fooling no one but yourself, Ezio.”
Unsure of what to say, Ezio remained silent, turning away so the other man could not read his expression. Antonio came up behind him and laid a hand gently on his shoulder. “If for nothing else, do this for him. He was your closest friend, was he not? He deserves this much.” Antonio paused. “I cannot bear to watch two of my closest comrades destroy themselves like this.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have invited him for tea, would you?” Ezio asked, narrowing his eyes as he turned back to the thief.
Antonio spread his palms innocently. “No, this time the onus falls on you to make things right. Can you do that, or have I misjudged you, Auditore?”
Ezio noticed the deliberate omission of his first name, but had not noticed Antonio walking him to the entrance of the Palazzo della Seta and gently pushing him outside, until it was too late.
“Take care, Ezio. I await word of your success.”
(tbc - Chapter Four.)
