A/N: This is my first time writing an Assassin's Creed fanfic, and I'm sorry if I accidentally write Ezio or any other character slightly OOC, but please tell me because I would like to correct it! Also, I hope that my character, Brooke, isn't boring, as I have never written a character like her. So, in case you couldn't have guessed, writing this story is completely new ground for me and I hope you'll forgive the bad translating of Google Translate (I don't speak Italian). Also, tell me if I have a certain fact wrong, because I'm not an expert on the AC series, but I'll stop talking and let you read on!
Chapter 1.
Ezio Auditore grinned. Summer was always the best season.
First of all, summer was during his birthday,and that meant girls wanted to wish him happy birthday in their special way. Second, no school. Thirdly, and the most important by far, bikinis. Ezio picked up a stray Frisbee and winked at the girls who obviously had thrown it toward him. They giggled and waved their arms for him to throw it back.
"Ezio, here!" One of them called, and he smiled charmingly. The junior threw the Frisbee toward them, and the group of girls jumped for it. Ezio would definitely be paying them a visit...
"Watch out!" A girl shouted, and Ezio turned around to see a football careening toward his face. His instincts flashed, and Ezio caught the ball inches before his nose. A couple of his friends were laughing at him, and Ezio rolled his eyes. He sent the football rocketing back and turned around to bow to the ladies. The girls giggled and Ezio decided that it was about time to talk with them.
He jogged over to the crowd and gave them his signature smile. He knew them all by name, hell, he knew almost all the girls' names at both Ackley and Holy Cross.
"Why don't you play football? You're so good!" Anna, a blonde said as she placed a hand on Ezio's shoulder. He smiled, "In Italy, soccer is called football."
She pouted and folded her arms, "We just lost four seniors! We need to win this year!"
"And we will, Anna." He smiled at her, and she blushed.
"Ezio Auditore!" A voice shouted and Ezio turned around to see Vieri de' Pazzi standing there with a group of Holy Cross kids. His brow furrowed slightly and Ezio felt anger start to build. What the hell were they doing here?
"Solo un memento, ladies.*" He walked forward, spreading his arms and grinning. "Welcome, Vieri, to the better side of the beach. But this is Eagle territory. So leave, before I make you." His voice dropped to a deadly tone, one that made people halt and see what was going on. Ezio glared at Vieri and folded his arms.
A crowd started to form and everything was still. Tension started to build, and other started to mutter to each other. "...we help?...Auditore's take care of their own business... god damn Knights..."
"Big talk for someone who's out numbered six to one." Vieri announced the obvious, but he shifted his weight in discomfort at the gathering Eagles. One thing was clear, the Knights were not welcome on this side of the beach.
"And I can still kick all of your asses," Ezio shrugged and then gave them a grin. "Unlike you, Vieri, who can't hold his own when you don't have a group to cover you as you run away." The crowd began to thicken as the tension grew. There was an invisble line drawn in the sand and no one dared to cross it. The teenagers, even the drunk ones, were still. Then, a voice broke through the crowd.
"Move, move, move, honestly people, stop clumping!" A small, tan girl reached the crowd and put her hands on her hips. "Ezio Auditore. You are not fighting again, you remember what mother did last time?" Ezio's face went from serious, to shock, to dread in a matter of seconds.
"Claudia," Ezio protested as he turned around to face his younger sister. He pleaded her with his eyes, but she rolled her eyes at him.
"No. And besides, Fed is coming home today." Ezio's eyes lit up, and he nodded after a moment of considering his options. For the past six monthes, his father was busy at the bank, Petruccico was always doing something along the lines of school or sports, and women had taken over the house. It would be good to have a bit more man power in the house. He planned around to smile tauntingly at Vieri, but he walked straight into a punch. Ezio reeled backwards from the sucker punch, and automatically Claudia face palmed. The Eagles began to cheer on their hero as he picked himself up and wiped his mouth to check for any blood.
"Bastard. Can't even hit me in a fair fight," Ezio muttered, and faced the guy who hit him first. A senior, with black hair, dark eyes, and a haughty expression. Ezio recognized him immediately, the 'prince' of Holy Cross- Cesare Borgia. Automatically, Cesare made a move to punch Ezio, but the younger Italian slammed his shoulder against him and delivered a viscous uppercut. Cesare grunted as he stumbled backwards and others moved forward to surround Ezio.
Ezio didn't back down, and as each Knight tried to punch him, he always delivered a counter strike. Elbow, punch, punch, uppercut, kick. The motions came in a viceral pattern, one that Ezio could not control. Time slowed down for him, every movement was wild, and not at all elegant like he'd practiced on a bag. They were rough, dangerous punches that connected with anything within range. However, after a few crunches of cartilage, and a few bruises gained all around, Veiri called his subordinates back. The Knights limped back to their master like a loyal dog, and left Ezio standing in a circle of Eagles, victorious.
He was panting for breath, sweaty, but grinning ear to ear. "Where are you going, de' Pazzi? Afraid I'll make your face worse than it already is?" Ezio called after him, and Vieri paused in his quick stride. The Knight's jaw twitched in anger, but Cesare Borgia pushed him forward. He whispered something into Vieri's ear and they nodded.
"You win, today Auditore. But lets see how well you'll play this year on the field. How many championships has it been now?" Vieri shouted down at Ezio, who scowled and the people around him began to boo at the fleeing Knights.
"Coward!...Knight's suck!... We'll kill you this year!" Other names were yelled at the departing rivals, and Ezio grinned and wiped his nose, which was bleeding from a lucky punch. He turned around to see his younger sister scowling at him, and Ezio tried to look as sheepish as possible. Claudia couldn't keep the pride out of her eyes, and she laughed slightly. "We need to get you cleaned up. After all, a scar would ruin your image."
Ezio sighed, and debated to let one of the girls fix him up... he began to scan the area for the girls and Claudia punched his arm lightly, "Come on, stop gazing at girls."
"Who me? Never," Ezio grinned and walked over to pick up his things. Claudia rolled her eyes. "Let's just get you home before you get into more trouble."
...
Brooke carried another box inside the house and set it inside the foyer. This one was labled, 'BROOKE'S ROOM', however, she still had no idea which room was her own. Boxes were piled against the walls, and more were coming in. She sighed at the challenge of unpacking them all and settling in this old house. It was so hot here, and after of just a half and hour of unloading boxes, the teenager was already sweating. Brooke grimaced as she walked back out into the moving van.
Her father, Chris Rogers, was slumped against the moving truck and she grinned at the sight. His glasses were low on the bridge of his nose, and he was fanning himself with a book. He must have been exhausted because Chris had always lacked stamina and heat tolerance. Brooke received the latter from him but because she was so fit from year round sports, stamina wasn't a problem. There were only five or six boxes left in the van, and so Brooke patted her father lightly on the shoulder and said, "I got these last few, dad. Why don't you go help mom unpack things in the kitchen and cool off?"
Chris' eyes were filled with relief and he nodded. "That's a good idea. Holler if you need any help, honey." He hauled himself upward to walk inside, and Brooke smiled to herself. Though she was nervous about going to a new place, she couldn't stop the tension that was finally dissipating from her mind. It was so nice to get away from her old life, to have the ability to start over and simply move on. Brooke grabbed a box from the back of the moving van and put it under her arm, and then she grabbed a lamp with the other arm.
Brooke made her way up the brick path and steps, and then walked inside the old paneled house. She placed the boxes in the foyer and began her trip again. She trekked back and forth two more times, and when she had the last box in her arms, her mother, Martha, came out with another job for Brooke. She looked stressed and was waving a slip of paper around wildly.
"Brooklyn, I need you to run to the store!" Brooke set the box down and jogged up to meet her other. "Okay, do you want me to go now?"
"Yes, we don't have any food and I don't know if the store closes early on Sundays. So here's the things that we need. Also, the store's in the center of town, according to your father, if that helps at all. You might just want to plug it into your phone."
"Thanks, mom, see you later," Brooke took the list from Martha and smiled at her, and then set off to her Jeep. The black car was already hot from baking in the sun, and the top was up. Brooke glanced over her shoulder to see that her parents weren't outside yet. She quickly pulled down the soft hood, and climbed inside the jeep. The keys were in the cup holder, and the interior was a mess. CDs, cassettes, and their cases were strewn across the car seats, while snacks, water bottles, and a couple boxes were scattered across the car. Fifteen hours of driving usually resulted in large messes. Brooke grimaced at the feeling of the hot leather against her skin and grabbed the keys from the cup holders.
She turned on the car and automatically, Red Hot Chili Peppers started to play out of the speakers. Some of the neighbors, who were mowing the lawn, or clipping the bushes, glared at her because of the loud noise. Oops, Brooke thought as she flushed and turned down the music. As soon as she made it out of the quiet neighborhood, Brooke turned the stereo up, and tapped her fingers against the steering wheel to the beat. The main road had a few people driving down it, but most people walked around here.
Brooke had just arrived here a few hours ago, and she already found it impossible to get lost. Everything here was so simple, and the town of Faircliff was the center of everything. All roads eventually lead back to the town center. Nothing was more than two miles distance from the town, according to her father, and so far, his assessment was true. It took her less than five minutes to reach town, and she parked in the nearest open space.
The teenager had gotten odd looks from the adults in town, mostly because her Jeep Wrangler Renegade was something most people didn't see on the road these days and the fact that she was new to this small town. Brooke pulled on her sunglasses and got out of the car.
When she walked onto the sidewalk, she found it busy and bustling in the summer heat. People were walking in and out of stores, sitting together in the shade of the large tree that was located in the center of town. She felt like she was misplaced in this place, everyone seemed like they were some type of big family, and she was the odd one out.
Brooke finally saw the market, which was on the corner of the main street. She picked up her pace and entered the busy store. She grabbed a basket on her left, and set off to shop. The list read milk, cheese, lettuce, bread, butter, carrots, salad dressing, cookies, sweet Italian sausage, lean ground beef, minced onion, 2 cloves garlic, 1 can crushed tomatoes, 2 cans tomato paste, 2 cans canned tomato sauce, white sugar, dried basil leaves, fennel seeds, Italian seasoning, salt, ground black pepper,chopped fresh parsley, lasagna noodles, ricotta cheese, eggs, salt, mozzarella cheese, Parmesan cheese. She rolled her eyes at the spontaneous list and added Frosted Flakes to the things to get.
As she walked through the aisles, gathering everything she needed, Brooke came across the Frosted Flakes, but they were too high up. She stood on her tip toes as she strained to reach them, but her fingertips were just inches away. Curse her short form, now, and forever. Brooke went down to normal height and folded her arms. Her lower lip protruded in a pout and she studied the box with the smiling tiger that taunted her.
Brooke growled slightly and glanced around. No one was looking, and so she set the basket on the ground and put her foot on the bottom shelf. She leaned down and tested it's strength, and then tentatively put her other foot on the shelf. Brooke made a wild grab for a higher shelf. She let out a long breath, and then reached with her other hand for the cereal box. Her hand reached the bottom of the box, and she grinned in triumph. Suddenly someone took the box away, and Brooke heard them clear their throat. She glared ahead and was fully prepared to snap at the person who just took the Frosted Flakes from her.
She jumped off the shelf and wheeled around to see a tall guy holding the box of Frosted Flakes awkwardly in his hands. He was imposing, but his expression was soft. He had brown eyes, deeply tanned skin, and longish hair pulled back into a half ponytail. He wore a simple t-shirt and jeans, and he had a cart nearby him. The guy looked around her age, and Brooke had to stop herself from saying something rude out of instinct.
"Here, I think you wanted these," He handed her the box, and Brooke looked between him and the box and then raised a skeptic eyebrow. Most guys would've tried some type of horrible pick-up line. The guy shifted his weight and was obviously unsure of what to say.
"Um, thanks. I usually have a cart to step on." She laughed, and he smiled, "You seem to know how to scale grocery store shelves without one." Brooke shrugged, and put the cereal in her basket. "Story of my life. I'm always trying to reach something, and so I have to improvise," She grinned, and stuck out her hand.
"I'm Brooke."
His large hand engulfed hers as he shook it and said, "Connor."
"Well thank you for the assist, Connor. I don't think I would've gotten off on the right foot with everybody if I spilled all the cereal all over the aisle floor."
He laughed and stuck his hands in his jean pockets. Suddenly, a man called his name. Connor's smile melted off and he frowned. "Connor?" He spoke with a British accent, and he looked around 50. He had handsome, aged features, and Brooke could tell that women older than herself must've thrown themselves at his feet. He arrived to the two teenagers and dumped groceries into the cart.
"Ah, Connor, who is your friend?"
"Brooke Rogers, sir." Brooke said formally and stuck her hand out. Connor's father shook her hand and his eyes narrowed in recognition. "I'm Haytham Kenway, Connor's father. Are you Chris Rogers' daughter by any chance?" Brooke nodded sheepishly and confirmed Mr. Kenway's question.
"How do you know my dad?" she asked, and Mr. Kenway seemed to study her before answering. "We were frequent opponents in sailing."
She nodded, her father had taught her how to sail since she was a kid. It wouldn't surprise her that he had competed here as a teenager. However, Mr. Kenway didn't seem like the type to sail smaller boats.
"When did you move back?" Mr. Kenway asked, and Brooke smiled, "A couple hours ago. My mom just sent me to the store to buy food to stock the fridge." He nodded and clasped his hands behind his back. Connor looked slightly nervous around his father, he kept glancing between Brooke and the older man, and shifted his weight from foot to foot.
"I assume you will be attending Ackley, as your father went there." Brooke noticed the disapproval in the older man's eyes as he said that sentence, but she brushed it off. She shrugged, and said, "I've been so busy with moving I haven't even discussed school with my parents."
Connor coughed and reminded the two that he was still there. Mr. Kenway glanced at his son by the corner of his eyes and then returned his attention to Brooke.
"And what do you sail, Ms. Rogers?"
"An RS300**." Mr. Kenway nodded in approval and Brooke looked at Connor, "Do you sail?" He immediately shook his head, "I moved here in the beginning of June. My dad's been trying to get me on one, but I just don't have time."
Mr. Kenway frowned at that comment, but Brooke quickly replied before an argument would break out.
"I understand what you mean. Moving can be such a stressful experience, and people-,"
Brooke's phone buzzed, and she apologized as she answered the phone. "Mom?"
"Brooke, did you find the store?" Martha questioned, and the teenager rolled her eyes.
"Yes, mom. Sorry, I ran into one of dad's old friends."
"Well get home soon! I need to make my lasagna!"
Internally, Brooke cringed when her mother said that word. Anything her mom cooked was toxic rubber that took the deceiving form of appetizing food. Lasagna was the worst one.
"Okay, I'll hurry. Bye mom."
"Love you honey." Brooke turned off her phone and turned to the Kenways and said, "I'm sorry, it was very nice to meet you both, I'll see you around, Connor."
*translated from Italian- Just a moment
**An RS300 is a small, fast sailboat that's very, very fun to sail. If you want an image, I recomend looking it up on your search engine. You'll get two things, a car and a sailboat. Obviously, it's the small sailboat ;)
I hope my character wasn't boring, but the story gets much better after this chapter (at least for me)! I haven't written for a while, so please excuse the bad grammar or spelling mistakes. R&R, and valete (goodbye in Latin)