A/N: This idea came to me after hearing the song "English Dance" by Sonohra. Such a fun Italian song, if you ever get a chance to hear it :). But anyway, I realise that they probably wouldn't have gotten away with this, so let's pretend that the crowd is thick and they're hidden or something like that. And you guys are so kind! I never in my life thought I would get such a response from my little fanfiction drabbles. I feel so flattered! Thank you all, for your kind reviews and support. For everyone who wanted more, I hope that this is something along the lines of what you wanted. I tried my best to bring justice to this amazing pairing... I may have failed though.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Assassin's Creed. Ubisoft does.
HISTORICAL NOTE: The waltz was frowned upon in Renaissance society due to the close intimacy level it had. The Galliard is a type of Italian Renaissance dance, a fast-paced Smörgåsbord of dance moves that differed greatly from place to place.
The chandeliers were lit so that light shone down on every corner of the ballroom, illuminating it with a golden glow. On the tables the wine, cheeses, and fruits seemed to be in never ending supply, the servants making sure of that as they bustled to and fro carrying away empty plates and bringing new ones. The people were packed tightly together, gossiping in their small groups as they watched the dancing from the sidelines.
It was Lorenzo de' Medici's birthday, and all of Florence was in attendance.
Ezio leaned against a wall, sipping the last of the wine from his glass. The party disinterested him, really. The girls were not the least bit pretty, and the place was far too crowded for his liking. If his profession had taught him anything it had been that crowded places meant a more difficult escape, so the filled ballroom set him on edge a tad.
Setting his wine glass on a table Ezio looked out onto the crowd, using his height as an advantage as he peered over the party-goers. Spying a familiar head of blonde hair, a smile came to his face and he began to make his way through the air-tight groups of people, finding the famous Leonardo Da Vinci watching the dance with interest.
"So you like the dancing, no?" Ezio said, surprising the inventor as he whipped around, his eyes wide.
"Ezio!" He exclaimed, holding a hand to his chest. "You startled me."
The assassin laughed and shook his head, walking forward so he was parallel with Leonardo. "That's my job, you know," he said, a smirk on his face.
Leonardo rolled his eyes. "Don't think too highly of yourself; you only managed to surprise a lowly painter."
"If I can still surprise the great Leonardo Da Vinci, I'd say I'm in fairly good shape." He looked out onto the dance floor, the line dancers moving in and out of formation with skilled technique before returning to their partners once again.
"I've forgotten what these parties were like," Leonardo said, his eyes glued to the spectacle. "The dancing is always so methodological, so refined. It's beautiful, the way it flows together so nicely."
Ezio rolled his eyes. "You try going to dancing lessons for twelve years and see how well you like it then."
"Dancing lessons?"
"The Auditore family was very prestigious in Firenze. From as long as I can remember, we had to attend banquets, balls, and political dinners and the like. And of course, at those banquets and balls and dinners was dancing. Lots and lots of dancing."
"So your father wanted you to know how to dance properly, I'm sure," Leonardo said, chuckling a bit to himself. "He always did take appearances seriously like that."
Ezio allowed a nostalgic smile to set on his face. "Yes, he did."
The music ended and the crowd applauded, the dancers bowing to each other before exiting the lines, the girls running back to their friends while the men talked among themselves. The violinist picked up his instrument, letting out a breath before gliding his bow along the strings, a slower melody beginning to spread its way throughout the room.
"A waltz?" Ezio wondered aloud, watching as a few brave couples walked out onto the dance floor to take part in the dance.
"Apparently. I guess Lorenzo doesn't have a problem with this type of dance," Leonardo said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Ezio smirked. "Do you know how?" He asked, looking down at the other man expectantly.
Leonardo pinked a bit, inwardly blaming it on the heat and close quarters of the room. "I know—I mean, I'm proficient enough—if that's what you're asking."
"Do you want to try?"
Heat rose to his cheeks again, and this time the temperature of the room wouldn't be enough to hide it. "W—what? Shouldn't you ask one of the young ladies? I mean—it would be a little difficult with two men, don't you think?"
Ezio shrugged, holding his hand out to the inventor. "None of them interest me today, and I haven't danced in many, many years. Please, humour me this once?"
If there was one person Leonardo could never say no to, it was Ezio Auditore de Firenze. He sighed, taking the assassin's hand. "We're going to be the strangest looking people out there."
"No one's looking. Besides, I've never cared much about what other people thought." He lead the other man past the couples to an open space on the dance floor. "You remember the position, right?"
"I remember, but—"
"Alright then." Ezio clasped his left hand on Leonardo's waist, earning a blush from the other man. He held out his other hand, waiting for the artist to take it.
"And why am I playing the female role?" He asked, hesitantly putting his hand on the taller man's shoulder. He reached over and brushed his fingers against Ezio's, the assassin responding by slowly curling his own around Leonardo's palm.
Beginning to move in step, Ezio smiled. "It's not so much about gender as it is about height, no? It would be a little awkward dancing with someone smaller trying to lead."
Directing them a bit to the right, Leonardo scoffed. "And it's not awkward for me? I've never danced with someone taller than me before, nonetheless a man."
"And such an intimate dance, too! Jesus Leonardo, you are quite the deviant, aren't you?"
Whatever blush had dissipated returned with even more vigor to the inventor's cheeks. "Y—you! You're the one who wanted to dance with me!"
Ezio laughed, leaning down so his breath was warming Leonardo's ear. "You missed a step," he smirked, back-stepping a bit and turning. "It goes one-two-three turn, one-two-three back, one-two-three forward again…" He guided the other man through the steps, not missing the way his breath hitched as he whispered against him. His hand went from Leonardo's waist to the small of his back, pulling him closer so their chests were almost touching. His fingers rubbed and shifted against the artist's own, noting the long length and calluses that adorned them from holding chisels and paintbrushes for long hours at a time.
The music slowed and stopped, the short waltz coming to an end. The two men separated a little hesitantly, their fingers lingering on each other as they pulled away and bowed. Leonardo noticed the slightest of blushes on Ezio's cheeks and he smirked a bit, feeling satisfied that he wasn't the only one a stammering, pink mess.
The music started again, faster this time.
"It's a Galliard…" Ezio said, looking to the band. "Do you know it?"
Leonardo took Ezio's hand, his fingers molding back to where they were moments ago.
"Why don't you teach me?"
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