A/N: This is a very long One-Shot of Altaïr x Ezio. If you don't like the ship, don't read it mkay.

Warning: Character death included along with minor blood and gore.

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed or the characters. Credit goes to Ubisoft.

Ezio Auditore da Firenze sat on top of a tall tower overlooking the beautiful town of Venice as the evening sun began to dip below the horizon. The light sent shimmers across the ocean waves, creating a calm and peaceful setting for the Italian Assassin to enjoy. This was his favorite place in the entire town, the perfect spotting point. Ezio was just beginning to drift into his own daydreams when a familiar sound struck his ear drums.

Snk.

Before he could even get a chance to react, the cold, but gentle touch of a blade's edge fell upon his neck. He froze instantly, not daring to move knowing it would be the last he would ever make, but he was probably dead either way. As the Assassin prepared to react in defense, a thought crossed his mind and he immediately relaxed with an amused smile creeping across his face. "Altaïr, aren't there better ways to greet me?"

The threatening blade shifted away from Ezio's neck and retracted as the Master Assassin appeared beside him, joining him on the rooftop's edge. "You know I like to make an entrance."

"I suppose I can't argue with that." Ezio replied with a light laugh. "I didn't think you were actually going to show up."

"You know what I do when I make a promise." The Syrian stated, gazing off at the distant sun.

"You keep it." Ezio said, slapping Altaïr softly on the back with a teasing smile.

Altaïr turned his attention to his fellow Assassin, giving him the smallest of smiles. Even those were rare for the serious assailant.

Ezio's grin widened at the sight of this. He recalled the day he had first met the Master Assassin. They had ended up bumping into each other while both had been tasked with different assassinations. After a small debate, both agreed to work together and the killings went through perfectly without a single flaw. Since then, the Assassins had kept in touch, continuing to partner up occasionally or just visit to simply catch up on recent events in each of their Orders.

But as the time passed, Ezio found his feelings for the Syrian growing immensely each time he had the pleasure of speaking to him. It took the Italian awhile to sort out these very emotions connecting him with Altaïr. Though now it was all too clear. He loved him. And he always wondered if Altaïr felt the same, though it was highly doubtful.

Altaïr was a man focused solely on his work. Sure, he may spare a few moments to spend with Ezio, but that didn't mean he truly cared for him in the slightest. Maybe someday he would admit his feeling for him, but Ezio was going to wait for the right moment to do so. He didn't want to ruin what the two already shared.

The sound of the Assassin in question's voice brought the Italian back to reality. "Well I had conveniently been given an assassination in this specific area and I knew exactly where to find you. But visiting is not the only reason I came."

"Oh? What do you need then?" Ezio asked, suddenly curious.

"This mission could prove to be difficult. I was hoping to get a little assistance." Altaïr replied in his usual calm and collected tone.

"You? Need my help? Wow. You're desperate." Ezio teased with a devious smirk.

Altaïr rolled his golden eyes at the Assassin's humor. "Is that a yes or a no?"

"Well of course it's a yes! I have some free time right now anyways." The Italian assured him, enjoying the annoyance he was causing him.

Altaïr simply shook his head in disapproval at Ezio's silly game as he turned to look back at the pretty site of the sunset.

Ezio did the same and the two remained atop of the old tower in a peaceful silence until the sun disappeared until the next morning where is would light their path to success.

Both Master Assassins were awake bright and earlier to begin their task of mapping out a proper plan of attack to dispose of their target, a high ranking Templar Officer. Ezio had quickly figured out why Altaïr had requested his assistance. The enemy was only to be in Venice for one day to perform a speech to his men, who happened to be very experienced guards, in the evening. It was the only time they could possibly strike. And that would be a lot of guards to deal with alone.

They were all going to be located in an open roofed plaza near the center of the town. The walls would be easy to scale and there were only four guard towers to have any worries about. The structures would also provide the perfect cover to stay out of sight of any wandering eyes.

It didn't seem like long before the night of the assassination was upon them. Ezio and Altaïr had already dispatched all the guards required without a hitch. Nothing stood in their path now to victory. The pair was currently crouched on the tip of the roof that covered the stone walls surrounding the occurring meeting, their eyes locked on the target. Altaïr kept his calm demeanor while Ezio was filled to the brim with excitement. He always got this way when the kill was about to take place, but it was especially bad when Altaïr was working with him.

Ezio didn't peel his gaze from his as he spoke to Altaïr. "Are you ready?"

The Syrian Assassin gave a swift nod in reply and said one last thing before departing across the roof. "Good luck to you, Brother."

Ezio removed his attention from the Templar and watched Altaïr with intense interest as he disappeared into the shadows on the next guard tower. Oh how he admired that Assassin. Not just for his skills. But for everything else he had, such as those golden eyes. They were more beautiful than the shimmering stars that shone above his head right now.

The Italian watched in silence as the Master Assassin paused in the position where he was in range to strike the Templar from above with his hidden blade. Ezio waited with extreme anticipation, finding enjoyment in seeing Altaïr do his work. He performed with such a majestic grace that made his heart flutter within his chest. The glimmer of light reflecting off his blade gave Ezio the signal that it was almost time for the plan to be set in motion.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of patience, the Syrian leapt from his position with the grace and swiftness of an eagle, approaching the objective fast. But that's when it all went wrong.

A figure of unknown origin struck like lightning from the rooftop and tackled Altaïr in midair, sending them both falling to the ground where he acted quickly and pinned the Assassin against the ground, shoving his face in the dirt.

Ezio was so surprised by the appearance of the man, he could only stare at the scene unfolding before him when he should be leaping down to flank the crowd of guards as planned. But the plan was now falling apart. He gazed at the man on top of Altaïr, his attention grasping the large Templar symbol printed on his chest. The Italian gasped. It was another high ranking enemy. But he was never supposed to be here!

Altaïr struggled beneath the weight, quickly swinging his hidden blade back behind himself. To his amusement, the man growled as the knife impacted his flesh and lessened his grip on the assailant. Altaïr took full advantage of the weakness, darting upward and forcing the man to tumble backwards.

This action brought Ezio back to his senses and he finally revealed himself by departing down to the ground and using both his hidden blades to stab two guards simultaneously in the back. This immediately caught the attention of many of the other armed guards. The Italian Assassin retracted his duel blades and removed his single sword. And that's when all hell broke loose.

Blood was spilling everywhere, corpses tumbling to the ground. Screaming and shouting sounded from all corners of the plaza as more guards rushed into the raging battle. It was not looking good for the Assassins.

Altaïr was dealing with his original attacker, who was proving to be quite a handful since he also had normal guards charging him from all directions. But he would never give up.

Ezio only had guards to deal with, a lot of guards. He dodged and attacked then dodged again, keeping track of the battle quite well at the moment, but he knew very well it was going to be extremely difficult to escape this growing mess.

Whoosh.

Something had flown right past the Italian's head, missing only by inches. His gazed darted in the direction it came and once he spotted the source, he cursed under his breath. Archers had taken position on the roof tops above them. Now he had to deal with surges of guards and arrows flying from all directions. But he was deterred by this. At least it would be equally as difficult for the Archers since there was so much chaos at the moment. He whirled around and swung his blade into an attacker's arm and then shifted to the side to dig the sharp blade into another's side.

Even as he kept his full focus on the battle, his attention would drift to his fellow Assassin fighting on the opposite side of the plaza. It brought a small smirk to his face as he saw the Templar attacker sprawled on the ground in a pool of freshly spilled blood. The biggest mistake he ever made was interfering with Altaïr's plans. What still didn't make sense to him was how the Templar could have known of the attack. But he didn't have time to think of a good reason now.

Seeing that his friend had currently everything under control, Ezio returned to his own conflict by kicking a guard right in the chest and grabbing another's arm, twisting it sharply until he heard the cracking sound of a bone. He then flung the body into another while he slammed against an incoming arrow, halting its path to him.

But then something nailed him in the back of his shoulder, sending an immediate sharp pain through his fighting arm. He gritted his teeth and reached behind himself, feeling to smooth wood of another arrow, He yanked it from the now bleeding wound and jabbed it into a guard's chest.

With his dominant hand now disabled, Ezio was forced to switch to his other. He had some battle experience with it for times like this, but not as much as he required at the moment. But he tired with all his might to continue. It wasn't enough. A blade struck him in the side, another in his already injured arm, and he was growing tired from all the movement and extra effort he had to put in. Unable to stand the pressure anymore, the Assassin fell to his needs, his breathing rapid and heavy.

Suddenly, the strikes against him stop occurring. The guards stopped swarming him. A strange silence fell upon the plaza. The Archers didn't continue to shoot their deadly arrows. Confused, Ezio removed his gaze from the ground and moved his head upward. And he wasn't surprised at all by what he saw.

It was the original target they were supposed to kill, whose current expression was one of pure amusement. "Well you have caused quite a lot of trouble. You probably would have succeeded if I hadn't have taken extra precautions in case something like this happened. Precautions I kept top secret so no one, not even you nosey Assassins, could figure out about it unless you were meant to."

That explained it. A permanent frown was etched on Ezio's face as he looked back down to the ground, refusing to look at the damned Templar. A thought hit him suddenly like a blow to the head and his eyes widened. Where was Altaïr? Was he captured as well . . . or worse? He shook that thought away almost as quickly as it came. He was a Master Assassin. He was fine. He had to be.

The sound of a long sword being removed from its holster made the Italian tense up. He didn't even have to check to know that the Templar had drawn it. This was it.

"It's a shame. You fought quite bravely. You would have made a great Templar." The man stated with a dark chuckle.

Ezio only growled in reply to the suggestion and tightly closed his eyes as he heard the blade cut through the air, knowing its intended target was him.

He heard the horrid strike of the sword on flesh, but no pain came to him. Confusion suddenly washed over him like a tidal wave across sandy shores. What had happened?

Thump. Thump.

The noise caused his eyes to instantly shoot open. Something had fallen beside him. Dread quickly replaced his swirling confusion as he slowly turned his head in the direction of the sound and his gaze landed upon a familiar form.

Altaïr.

" . . . Altaïr?" Ezio's voice came in a barely audible whisper.

Altaïr did not respond in any way. Fresh blood stained his once white robes. A long slash could be vividly seen across his backside.

Ezio couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it. But he knew it was true. He was living a horrifying nightmare. Altaïr had taken that Templar's blade for him, but why?

The sadness and despair that had begun to corrupt the Assassin disappeared into thin air as rage and pure hatred fell into its place. He suddenly darted upward, gripping his sword in his injured hand, ignoring the sharp pain it was causing him. With support from his good arm, he slammed that metal with all his might right into the Templar Officer's chest, forcing it all the way through. Blood spurted from the shocked enemy, who died almost instantly.

Pulling the blade back to himself, he screamed a fierce battle cry and charged at the equally shocked guards, slashing and swinging his blade in all directions at them. Fueled by his boiling anger, he went on a murderous rampage, eliminating any guard that was unlucky enough to come within sight. They barely had any time to react before the enraged Ezio got to them and took their life like a hunter in search for prey.

Soon, the guards were either soaked in their own blood, lying limp on the ground, or had fled the scene in fear for their lives.

Ezio was panting heavily like a crazed animal as he returned his blood-covered blade back to its holder. He turned away from them, not caring one single bit. The Assassin quickly rushed to his partner's side. As carefully as he good, he flipped Altaïr onto his back but was sure to keep his serve wound from touching the ground.

"Altaïr?" Ezio repeated his earlier question but he still received no reply. The footsteps of approaching guards caught his attention. They couldn't stay here. Gently, he scooped up the injured Assassin and slung him over his still good shoulder, not caring about the warm blood that was trickling down his arm from the body. Ezio then sprinted out of the nearest exit, fast enough so no one would be able to stop and question his presence. He had to get Altaïr to safety. That was all that mattered now.

Dodging and shoving, Ezio darted through the crowds of people filling the streets, ignoring the harsh words that were being spat at him. He didn't care about them. Knowing the guards would on be on his tail, he made a smart, but logical, decision and skidded to a halt. He grasped onto a window sill with his free hand and hauled himself upwards, barely even noticing the intense pain it caused him. It was a difficult task, but the Assassin finally made it to the top.

He wasn't in the clear yet. He began to run once again toward to close brick buildings positioned on the roofs of another. It would provide the perfect cover in the darkness of the night. Upon reaching the position, Ezio slowly sat down and laid Altaïr across his lap, gazing down at him.

"Altaïr . . ." He said, his voice cracking as salty tears began to sting his eyes. "Please, Altaïr. Don't leave me."

The wound was bad. It didn't take a medical expert to know that. There was so much blood. If Ezio even tried to go to a doctor now, they would only call the nearest guards, probably being notified to look out for a man with a serious injury. Even if a doctor did help, the cut was so deep, so severe, there would probably be nothing that could be done. It was hopeless.

Ezio couldn't do anything now. He couldn't hold the overpowering feelings within him back anymore. Tears streamed down his cheeks and soft sobs racked his whole body. He leaned down and nuzzled against Altaïr's chest, still feeling the same warmth that had been there before and the same familiar scent the Syrian carried, though now it was tainted with the stench of blood.

". . . Ezio." The voice spoke clear as day, despite being barely a whisper.

The Italian darted back up into a sitting position and was met by a familiar pair of shinning golden eyes. "Altaïr!"

Altaïr stared up at him, breathing deeply and his face twisted in pain. "Ezio."

"Altaïr, why did you do this? Why did you save me?" He asked quickly, but kept his voice quite.

"Because. . . I care about you." The Master Assassin replied, wincing in pain. He didn't have much time.

Ezio tore his gaze from his friend, shaking his head. "You couldn't possibly care more about me than yourself . . . I'm just a silly Italian with a love that I cannot get in return."

"No, Ezio . . . you are wrong . . . I . . . I love you." Altaïr spoke once again, but his tone was layered with calmness, and comfort.

The other Assassin immediately looked back at him, shocked by the last three words he couldn't believe he just heard. "You. . . You do?"

Altaïr forced a nod, though he cringed at doing so. It hurt to move, even to breath.

Ezio stare at the Syrian as a soft smile shone off his face through the happy tears that now fell from his pink tinted cheeks. "I love you too." Without a second thought, the Italian leaned down toward the Syrian, pressing his lips roughly against his.

Altaïr did not reject the sudden gestured and gladly participated in the rough kiss, despite knowing these were his final moments. He didn't want this to end and neither did Ezio.

A good few moments passed before Ezio finally unlocked his lips from Altaïr's. The happiness he had felt a mere few seconds ago quickly faded as the grim memory of his lover's fate returned to him. "Altaïr . . . I am so sorry . . . I should have told you sooner of my feelings . . . I should have tried harder in that battle . . . This is all my fault-"

Altaïr didn't let him continue as he talked through the pain. "No . . . Don't blame yourself . . . I chose my fate . . . do not dwell on your own."

"I just . . . I already lost my family . . . I don't want to lose you too." Sadness was wrapped around the Assassin's tone as he looked down, despair clearly present in his eyes.

"Ezio . . . even in death . . . I will always be with you . . . I promise." The Syrian replied, laying his head back in Ezio's arms. And for the first time in his life, a true smile appeared on his face as bright as day.

Ezio could feel the tears beginning to well up again as his voice cracked with their presence. "Don't make a promise you can't keep . . . "

Altaïr gazed at his friend one last time, the grin he had forced fading and soon all the pain ceased as his eyes slowly closed for the last time. He was gone.

The remaining Assassin squeezed his eyes shut, but the tears slipped through his eyelids, dripping onto the now limp body. He couldn't stop himself now. He looked up to shining stars above surrounding the glowing orb of the moon above.

"Why . . ." He whispered, gritting his teeth. "WHY DO YOU TAKE EVERYONE I LOVE FROM ME?"

Ezio glared at the dark sky as if expecting an answer to come, but not arrived. And the stars continued to twinkle. And the moon continued its orbit without a care of the mourning Assassin's feelings.

The funeral hadn't been much. They didn't want to draw too much attention. It was held in Masyaf.

Ezio hadn't cared if it was such a far distance to travel. He did it anyways. Not a word had escaped the Assassin during the ritual, nor did any after. No one truly understood the intense pain that was corrupting him from the inside out.

He immediately returned to Venice after it was all over. He had a place to be.

Ezio heaved himself up to the familiar rooftop, walking across the flat surface. He quietly sat down in the same spot he did before, swinging his feet over the edge. His attention was directed at nothing as he stared off at the beautiful scene set again by the sun drifting lower to the horizon, mocking him with its happy colors.

The Italian's expression was blank, no emotion being revealed by his face. His hand slid across the old crumbling stone, pausing at the spot where Altaïr would usually sit, but no more. His friend would never again sneak up behind him, never again watch the sunset with him, and never again be by his side in battle. That was all ripped away from him by those damned Templars . . . and himself.

He looked down to his lap, his hands clenching into angered fists. He just didn't understand. The Assassin reached behind himself and removed a small fabric bag from his belt. Carefully, he folded back the flaps and reached inside, removing the one thing he had left, the one thing he was allowed to keep.

His hidden blade.

Ezio ran his finger along the dull edge, staring down at the object with sadness. He then set it down right beside himself and returned his attention to the current sunset.

A sudden group of soaring eagles appeared from nowhere and flew overhead, drawing Ezio's attention as they flew toward the horizon.

A strange feeling came over Ezio, sending shivers throughout his still body. But it wasn't ones of fear or despair, but ones of warmth and comfort. It seemed familiar as it washed over the Italian.

And then he knew.

A soft smile spread across Ezio's face for the first time in days and joy shone in his kind eyes.

"You never break your promises after all."

A/N: Sorry for the long length. *sobs* Why did I write this?