Another fanfic for the 100 prompt challenge! This one is based on the word "years". It is based on historical facts, at least his escape, the rest is invented by me (if true then it is just a coincidence). Enjoy anyways!
Disclaimer: I don't own Assassins creed or any of the historical characters in here. I wish I did though.
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I had spent years following Cesare across Europe's map, watching him carefully and trying to stop him whenever he tried to escape from the places he had been imprisoned at. However all of my preparation served for nothing when he tried to escape for real. It was night time, when he hung himself with some sheets from the window of the castle where he was imprisoned at. How he had managed this was a mystery. However the old templar leader was caught while he tried to escape, and the sheets were cut by the guards, who let him fall from the height, convinced that he would die. I could just stare as this happened, and when he had fallen to the ground I ran towards where he had fallen, trying to find his body, that shouldn't be alive anymore. It had been a great height after all. I couldn't find him until I saw him on top of a horse. He was bleeding badly, and was severely wounded. He probably had a few broken bones. I pushed aside the feeling of compassion I got as I saw him go away, crying a bit and in such pain. "I will catch you, Cesare Borgia" I said to myself.
It was several months later when I next saw him. I had arrived to a small village, since I had heard rumours that Cesare Borgia had been around the area for quite a while, going to and from several villages. That was what had led me there. After spending some hours searching for him, in vain, I decided to go to the only pub of the village. It smelled quite bad, probably due to the pigs that were on a corner and who knows what more. The room was filled with all kinds of things that couldn't be recognised, and with drunk men.. I asked the bartender for a glass of something. I didn't care what it was from. I just wanted to have a drink. I started drinking as soon as it was brought to me, and I stared at a wall, thinking about my sister and mother, the assassins and about Rome. I had heard the assassin order was again going badly, and that Rome, under the new pope, was again on bad state. Too bad that I wasn't there at the moment; I would deal with the new pope as soon as I could.
My thoughts were disturbed when I heard a fight starting. A hooded man that had been drinking until now and another enormous man that was clearly drunk were fighting because of who knows what. Soon a circle was formed around them, as they fought. People shouted as the both drew some knifes and started attacking each other. I watched them, out of boredom. There was nothing interesting to watch, and I didn't want to think too much right now. I noticed as they fought that the clothes that the hooded man was wearing were quite similar to the ones of an assassin. "It can't be that he's…" I thought as I watched them. The fight continued for several minutes more, until the enormous drunk man got angry at a comment from the other one. He got hold of a bigger knife, punched the hooded man on the face, and drew the bigger knife in his stomach. The other man fell to the floor, in pain. The enormous man then kicked him hard, and sent him flying off to the part of the room where the pigs where.
I went towards the wounded man, wanting to know who he was. "Those clothes…" I thought as I did this. I helped him get up. His clothes were now a mess with the mud the pigs were on, and who knows with what else. "Are you okay?" I heard myself ask. The man didn't respond, just made some more sounds of pain and tried to get away from me, as if I scared him. I was confused. "Where did you get those clothes from?" I then asked him, a few seconds later. I decided to take him out of the pub. This wasn't a very good place to question him about those clothes. I got hold of him, hung him over my shoulder and went out of the smelly pub, and into the streets. I left him on the ground when we arrived to a dark and small street, where not a single person was in sight. I gave the man my last medicine bottle. He soon appeared to be more calmed and in a better state. "Where did you get those clothes from?" I asked him. He didn't answer, and just tried to get away again, which quickly failed because he seemed to have a broken leg and some additional wounds. He fell to the floor because of this, not even because of my intervention.
I decided to take the hood off him. Maybe I would be able to recognise him like that. He tried to stop me, but I just grabbed his arms with one of mine and took the hood of him. I was surprised, very surprised. In front of me I had Cesare Borgia, in a very bad state. These last years has completely destroyed him. He looked at me equally surprised and with a hint of fear in his eyes. "Cesare" I said. He turned away, and tried to escape again. "Don't bother" I said "You have too many wounds" I said. "Why do you care?" he asked. "Why do I care…?" I said aloud to myself. True, I should be happy of finding him in such a bad state, it would make the job of carrying him back to a prison easier, but I couldn't find the feeling of happiness In me. Instead I just felt compassion. He had lost everything, just like me years ago. "Because we are the same" I replied to him. He looked at me, again surprised, not expecting my answer. He opened his mouth, to say something, but he coughed up blood instead. "We should do something about your wounds" I said then. I closed his eyes again, in pain. I got hold of him again, and started searching for a doctor. I felt him pass out as I did this.
He woke up two days later, confused. "What…. Where?" I heard him ask. He was lying on top of some hay inside an abandoned building I had found. He looked at himself, and saw that his wounds were all now bandaged and healing. He then saw me. "Why are you?" He asked. I looked at him and smiled, "Why not?" I asked. He looked confused. I got near him, and stared at the broken man before me. He tried to meet my glaze, but couldn't. he looked so broken, so fragile… I looked at his watery eyes that tried to look back at me with all the strength he had once shown. "I…" He started saying. He couldn't continue, as he started crying. "Damn it!" He shouted, as he covered his face. I got even closer to him, and I hugged him. He soon hugged me back and started crying on my shoulder, and started telling me all of his pains and worries. None of us was acting like ourselves then. Not me or him. After some moments I found myself kissing the man. "It will be okay" I whispered to him. He started crying again, until he hadn't got any tears left.
We spent some weeks more going from village to village, until he healed. By then it was already the start of 1507. He could ride now, and was on top of a horse he had managed to get. He looked at me, and smiled. "Thank you, Ezio" He said, with a smile. I smiled back at him. "Take care, but remember I will be back for you if you try anything" I said. He grinned. "I know, and I can't wait for that moment" He said Soon he was gone. I got onto my horse and went away, soon to follow him again.