INVENTING BETRAYAL

SEQUENCE ONE INTIATED…

ROMA, 1502

THE DISAPPEARANCE

Leonardo da Vinci was a patient man. He was patient of others, but perhaps not of himself—the impatience he had with his own wandering mind sometimes brought him to his knees with frustration. But that is beside the point, because Leonardo was patient when it came to the assassini, especially the one whom he had known since his early days in Firenze.

Ezio Auditore, the aforementioned Firenze assassino, was a man Leonardo never regretted meeting, despite the danger it brought upon him. Ezio was his oldest, and if Leonardo was being perfectly honest, his closest friend. Without a question, he would do anything to help his assassin friend. Many times already, he has done just that.

But now he felt incredibly guilty for the part he played in aiding the Borgia. Though it had been under duress he had designed the war machines, Leonardo couldn't help but feel responsible for the trouble he put Ezio through in destroying them and their plans. And yet, his friend took it on himself to do without a question, without even stopping to think Leonardo had actually betrayed him. It touched the artist that he was trusted so utterly and unconditionally.

Humming to himself, Leonardo continued on his commission, feeling rather proud that is was halfway done. Though the impatience of his own procrastination had been eating at him for some days, for the painting had been the source of much grief. However, the painting seemed not as bad as he remembered when he had last attempted to finish it. The last time he had sat down to paint it he had stormed to bed in a fit of rage two hours later when he had tried to darken a shadow and made it a ridiculous, purplish bruise on the signora's cheek.

With a sigh, Leonardo placed the brush down after several hours work on the painting, standing to realign his spine with three sickening cracks. Rearranging his beret, Leonardo decided to take stroll through the market as he did every day to check if Ezio had sat at one of the several benches he had marked. He told his assistant and set out into the wild streets of Roma, humming a lighthearted tune as he went.

As he walked, he was delighted to hear conversations between soldiers (some enraged, others quieted, some even fearful) of the destruction of his assorted war machines. He was particularly glad of the destruction of his cannoned flying machine. His flying machine was something akin to his child, a creature born of his flesh and blood and tears; to have his own blood in the hands of the Borgia had sent angry prickles up his spine at the thought of it. Now that it was destroyed—though it hurt so—he could finally breathe freely again, now knowing no filthy, Borgia hands would steer it again.

Two benches, five eavesdropped conversations and three hours later, Leonardo made his way up to one of the last benches at the top of a cliff-hill, smiling to himself when he saw a familiar white hooded figure sitting hunched there. Making it look like a desire to rest his legs (that wasn't all show), Leonardo wandered to the bench and sat next to the assassino, pulling back his shoulders and carefully rearranging his legs as he did.

"I hope you were not waiting long," Leonardo said out of the corner of his mouth. Ezio smiled.

"It was plentiful time to think."

Leonardo hummed. "The whole of Roma is speaking of the destruction of my war machines. I've had a little time to work on something just for you in the meantime." Handing a tied parcel to his friend, he explained, "It is like my flying machine, only much smaller. You can carry it with you wherever you go."

"Grazie, Leonardo."

Looking at the assassin who now sat next to him on one of the designated benches out of the corner of his eye, Leonardo couldn't help but feel a bit proud. For what, he did not know, but the feeling was unmistakable.

"What do you plan next?"

Ezio smiled a bit. "I need to speak to Claudia," is what he said. "Perhaps her girls will know something of Cesare's funds."

Leonardo hummed. "May Lady Fortuna be with you, then."

Ezio's chest rumbled like an enormous feline. "I need little fortune."

"Ah, but sometimes having a little luck is better for the health."

Ezio quirked a smile before he heavily got to his feet and wandered off; Leonardo had never believed Ezio of all people to wander, but wander he did. Leonardo stayed seated for some time afterwards before standing up as well and making his way back to his workshop. If only he knew that short, insubstantial meeting was the last time he would see Ezio Auditore for a strangling, lonely, and terrifying five months. Normally, five months was but a moment between them, but this instance, the disappearance was much, much worse.

It was six days later that Leonardo was confronted with the first worried ally. Unlike Ezio, who mostly saw fit to soar through his windows whenever he wanted to pay a visit, Claudia Auditore was much more conventional than her brother and instead chose to knock at his door.

"Signora! What a surprise. Please, come in—ah, excuse the mess, I did not have time to clean today—"

"Leonardo, have you seen Ezio?" Ah, said like a true Auditore: straight to the point, straight through his blather. Leonardo stopped and turned to look at the young womanframed by his doorframe, eyebrows knotted.

"Not for several days. He mentioned he was going to see you when he left, however; did you not meet him about a week ago?"

"No, that is what worries me," Claudia admitted. "He mentioned in passing before he was in need of my girls, but has not come to see me. La Volpe told me to ask you."

"I'm afraid I have not seen him," Leonardo said. "Mi dispiace. But you know Ezio better than I; it is not unlike him to vanish for some days."

"Si, but not when Cesare is still running amok with all of his funds." Claudia bowed slightly to him, turning to leave. "Grazie, Leonardo."

"If you need anything else, please stop by!" Leonardo called as he made his quick way up towards the door to see her out. "Do not hesitate to ask!"

"I will not," Claudia assured him before stepping into the crowd before his workshop and disappearing from his view.

She would make an excellent assassin, Leonardo thought.

The first assassino to visit him after Claudia was in the middle of the night—for God's sake, even though he was up more than half the night it did not mean it was the prime time to visit him, but the assassini thought much different, apparently—and Leonardo was left swearing and stumbling when a voice from behind him broke the silence of his workshop.

"Is it normal for you to be up this late, da Vinci?"

"Merda! La Volpe! Is it the norm for you to visit at such late hours?"

Leonardo had turned to see the thief ever so nonchalantly sitting on the upper railing of his workshop, sitting precariously with his feet swinging. The thief grinned at him in a most feral manner, before saying, "Ezio has not returned to Isola Tiberina, nor has he left message through the pigeons. Have you contacted him since meeting with him on the bench?"

"No, I have not—wait, how did you know?"

"It is my business to know everything," La Volpe said dismissively. "Molto bene. Expect a recruit or one of my thieves to collect you in the coming days. If he is not found soon, that is."

"What do you mean, found? You think he is missing?"

"More of captured, but Machiavelli is…resistant to the thought of it. I, however, do not believe it so absurd that the Borgia may have overpowered him."

"I find it a little farfetched…"

"Something strange indeed to hear from your mouth, da Vinci," the thief replied before disappearing into the darkness of the upper rooms in his workshop. When Leonardo followed, he found only an open window and a chilled breeze.

Leonardo was not overly concerned, if truth be told. Even though Ezio had not made contact to the others or himself, Leonardo knew him to be more than capable of handling himself. Perhaps he got caught up in some other mission, perhaps he even left Roma for some reason…or maybe he is undercover, already thinking ahead to his next mission…

Leonardo shook himself free of the dark thoughts when a knock on his door resounded through the room. The inventor stood and opened it to reveal a hooded girl with black hair and a crossbow sticking over her left shoulder.

"I was told to come and escort you to the hideout, Maestro."

Leonardo felt a coil of worry knot itself in his stomach, but he forced the worry and questions from his throat. He agreed quickly and called to his assistente to watch over the workshop, and gesturing to the recruit to lead the way.

"May I ask, what is your name?"

"Bianca Bonasera. I am a veterano. Maestro Machiavelli entrusted you to me personally; you are in safe hands."

"I had no doubts, signorina. I know I am. Have you any information on Ezio?"

"Nessuno, mi dispiace. No more than the rest."

Leonardo sighed and fell silent. Somehow, the words did not come to him as they would have before; Bianca Bonasera seemed like a lovely woman to talk to, but with the possibility of his friend in enemy hands, even his own tongue was stilled. They remained in silence for the entire trip to the hideout, and not a single guard glanced their way. Bianca opened the door to the tower and gestured Leonardo inside, closing the door behind her with a firm hand.

"Ah, Leonardo," Machiavelli greeted him as he descended the steps and approached the tight ring of assassini who stood in the center of their underground hideout. "It is always a pleasure. Was your trip calm?"

"Yes, thanks to Bianca. She led us around several guards I did not see—"

"As she is trained to. Thank you, Bianca, you may go." He did not resume speaking until the veterano had bowed and disappeared into one of the many rooms of the hideout. "La Volpe insisted you be present today. We have had word from an undercoverassassin in Cesare's ranks that the ambush on an assassin the previous week was successful and our captured brother is being interrogated as we speak."

"It must be Ezio," Claudia said. "None of the recruits have gone missing or even died in the past several weeks."

"Certamente," Machiavelli said. "What we must to do now is decide how to proceed."

"Do we know where he is being held?" That was La Volpe.

"No," Machiavelli admitted. "Our man couldn't find out. Apparently only Cesare himself knows. It's that or the guards who know are kept very, very quiet."

"How can we proceed if we don't know where he is? Or if he's even alive still?"

"That is why we're here, Claudia!" Machiavelli could get sharp in his tone when he was aggravated.

"No one has seen him? Not one of the courtesans, or even the thieves?"

"As far as I know, no," Claudia said.

"About five of my thieves were killed in a scuffle with the guards last week," La Volpe admitted. "I didn't think much of it; the guards in the area where they were killed are rather keen. Perhaps they were attempting to aid Ezio in the ambush and were killed."

Leonardo couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Do you know where?" All eyes turned to him and he flushed slightly under the scrutiny.

"Of course."

"Then you should go there," Leonardo said, almost excitedly. "Perhaps there was a beggar there who saw it, or one of the shopkeepers. They could tell you if Ezio was there, and maybe they overheard where they were taking him if he was. Or even in the general direction they went and how."

La Volpe tapped his chin. "I will go. I will be back before nightfall. Grazie, Leonardo. Arrivederci."

Leonardo stayed in the hideout, unwilling to be absent a moment that could be spent searching for Ezio. Though he was useless in the actual searching, he wanted to be at hand if the other assassini would need him. Claudia had felt much the same, but he had persuaded her she was better stationed in her brothel, listening and employing her girls to listen. Machiavelli disappeared somewhere almost instantly after La Volpe departed. Bartolomeo, who had been silent the entire meeting as he had nothing to add, rumbled something about the French and left as well.

Some of the assassin recruits sat next to him at the table he had found himself at, attempting at conversation (having heard the stories of his legendary tongue and too-quick mind) but were disappointed when all he could manage were a few weak words and comments, sparse eye contact and a mumbled finish of a sentence that almost had no connection to whatever they had said. They could tell his heart was not in it, having been spirited away with Ezio, lying shivering in whatever dank cell their savior was imprisoned in. After a few attempts, the recruits left him be and spoke in their quiet words by the board or perused the library.

Years seemed to pass from the time La Volpe had left and to the time he returned. Leonardo shot up at the sight of the thief himself stalking in from the lower door, his face hidden by his hood and steps silent. Leonardo hadn't even heard the door open.

"Well?" Leonardo cried, hurrying towards the silent thief who stood in the center of the vast room, arms crossed and head bowed. "Did you find anything?"

"Yes. Where is Machiavelli? I do not want to repeat myself more than already necessary."

"He left some time ago, not long after you left, as did the others."

La Volpe swore under his breath before he looked up at Leonardo with a cocked eyebrow and compressed lips. "I will send a recruit with word." Like he said, he beckoned over a slim and tall recruit, who had sparse armor and a long sword on his hip. He was probably the runner of the assassini, the quickest of his brothers and sisters. La Volpe scribbled several words on three sheets of parchment and with the instruction: "Only hand them over only to Claudia, Machiavelli and Bartolomeo, and no one else, capito?"

"Capito, maestro." The recruit responded, tucking the papers in his pouch before hurrying out.

La Volpe sighed and turned to Leonardo, who had an eager look on his face. "Si, I found a beggar who witnessed the fight. After some provocation, he told me a man in strange white robes was attacked by what he described as "an entire battalion of guards". He related that he was holding his own until a cheap and lucky blow seemed to break his knee. It was then my thieves joined to protect him, but they were cut down by the sheer number of soldiers there. They beat Ezio until "he was a bleedin' like a puttana fresco" and dragged him away, to where I suspect a carriage or their horses were."

Leonardo felt sick, and the world shifted under his feet for a moment before he staggered and grabbed the wall to anchor himself. La Volpe grasped his arm in a surprisingly sympathetic gesture. "He did not overhear anything as to where he was being taken, or even why. When the others get here we can decide what to do next. But you did well, Leonardo. I can tell you Machiavelli would not have thought of it."

That offered very little comfort.

"…and he did not overhear anything after they left," La Volpe finished.

The other assassini were all still, some holding their breath until la Volpe finished his report. Machiavelli was rubbing his chin thoughtfully and Bartolomeo looked like he was about to fling himself into a full blown swearing rage. Claudia, like Leonardo, looked sick.

"What do we do now?"

"It did very little good if you ask me—"

"Well, now we know it was Ezio—"

"We already knew Ezio was captured!"

"Everyone, per favore, we cannot afford to argue. We need to decide what to do now—"

"Little help you're doing on that front, Machiavelli!"

Leonardo put his hands over his ears in a vain attempt to block out the bickering assassins, who normally worked well together but in the face of almost utter destruction and with their ally's life hanging in the balance, could not keep old rivalries from arising and heating. Without Ezio to cool tempers, the most headstrong and temperamental of the Brotherhood were once again at each other's throats. Leonardo needed to think, to try and help, but with all of this noise piling up in his mind and distracting him he could barely even breathe…!

And then it hit him. In an instant, he knew what needed to be done, despite the sacrifice and the implications. It was Ezio's life in their hands. Leonardo shouted above the clamor from his place at the table, and to his surprise, all the assassini quieted in the instant they heard his raised voice.

"Silenzio! I know what has to be done!"

Leonardo looked up at all of them in turn, waiting until silence had fallen until he spoke again.

"One of us has to betray the Brotherhood."

Just like the take this time to say hello, Assassin's Creed fandom! I've been a follower for quite some time but until now I hadn't the inspiration to write anything. I hope you'll enjoy this little thing eating away at me. Sorry for any typos, modern words, bad Italian or mistakes, as all of them are mine.

Sorry if this seems so rushed, it's how it seems to me. But I've wrote this in one sitting to get it out before I forget or lose interest. *is sheepish* Don't be shy to leave a review or a critique! Thanks for reading this ridiculously long winded thing and see you next chapter.

Assassini, assassino: Assassins, assassin

Signora, Signorina: Lady, ms. or miss

Grazie: Thank you

Fortuna: Fortune

Mi dispiace: I'm sorry

Merda: Shit

Isola Tiberina: Tiber Island

Molto bene: Very well

Maestro: Master

Assistente: Assistant

Veterano: veteran, 8th rank assassin

Nessuno, mi dispiace. : None, I'm sorry.

Certamente: Certainly, of course

Arrivederci: Goodbye

Capito? : Understood?

Capito, maestro: Understood, master

Puttana fresco: fresh whore/bitch

Per favore: please

Silenzio: silence, shut up

I went kind of crazy with the Italian…heh heh…please correct me if I've made a mistake, I'd rather be able to correct it than let it stand. Thanks so much!

-Spirit-