EM: I read a quote somewhere that said our written words should never be hidden from those who would read them. I had been saving this little egg of mine because it is lost. But I won't deny it the freedom any longer. And so I give this to you to read.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Assassin's Creed franchise.

For the Brotherhood

Roma 1497

He was perched at the top of Tiber Island Hideout. Looking down into the river, he remembered the day's initiates and their Leap of Faith. In a sense, he could say he was proud. He was succeeding where his father and uncle had not been able to. Though that grasso Borgia was still alive and the Apple still missing, he was moving forward. What he was doing, as the Master Assassin, was actually gaining meaning. He was even beginning to hope for an end to the madness that had begun so many years ago, with the death of his father and brothers.

Looking down at the city below him, he felt nostalgic for Firenze. Even Venezia sounded better than Roma. Though Roma held a certain appeal that was to be desired in Venezia, he still wished he was at home, in Firenze, picking fights with Federico, collecting feathers and actually giving them to Petruccio and being scolded by his father.

But he had been born into a life that came with prices.

Looking out over the city bathed in moonlight, he was wishing once more for a different time, a different place. One where people didn't kill each other for the power of a single object. One where he could have married Cristina instead of the bastardo that she had married. He was even beginning to think about children. It was hard not to when every corner he turned led to a group of children running through the streets, playing games along the dirt road.

Children lying dead in the fields.

"Ezio." He had heard him before he had even walked out the door, had heard him as he made his way up the final steps. He heard him push the door open, take quiet and meaningful steps toward him. He had heard him hesitate, the breath catching in his chest and then he planted his feet firmly. Despite his trust in Machiavelli, there were times when he just plain disliked the man.

"We have a problem." He scowled underneath his hood. How many times would he have to fix what everyone else seemed to infinitely ruin? There was always another problem that needed his skills. Yes he trusted Machiavelli, but his skills lay in politics and Ezio did not like politics. The recruits were coming along nicely but it took time to gain the skills he had and time he did not have.

"What is it this time?" Machiavelli seemed to sense his frustration but continued on.

"A group of our mercenaries was escorting a member of the Brotherhood, but it seems we have a leak." Machiavelli's eyebrows rise at Ezio's lack of surprise but he did not stop. "They have been ambushed and I fear that she may be…compromised." Ezio did look up this time, at the word she. He found that women were limited to very few uses, which all tended to be within the same work. But he relished in the idea that they might have new blood working to defend against the Borgia. And that it would be a woman was even better.

He had never said he had stopped being a womanizer.

"You think she will talk?" Machiavelli shook his head no. "I believe she will die defending who she is. And we do not want her to die. She could prove to be very useful." Ezio watched as Machiavelli emphasized just how useful this 'she' could be. He almost found Machiavelli's implication…distasteful. He did not deny that in his younger days he could have been categorized as a…philanderer. But that did not mean that he disrespected women. In fact, he loved women.

"Where is she now?" Machiavelli told him some place on the outskirts of Roma, which was of course one of the farthest places from the Hideout.

"I will find her." Machiavelli nodded and laid his hand on Ezio's arm as he turned to leave. "She has a way with words, Ezio. We need her alive. Her voice could prove to be beneficial to the Brotherhood." Ezio bowed his head and then jumped. The tile of the roof below rushed to meet him and he jolted with the impact and rolled into his landing, pushing up into a running start and skipping across the rooftops.

Though he would be cleaning up another botched plan, he felt good running again.

"Hey stronzo! Get down before I make you!" He chuckled under his breath and fell down the opposite side of the building grabbing at the protruding niches. When his hands gripped an edge, his arms stretched painfully as he held on tight and flopped against the wall. He dropped once more to another ledge and then dropped again to the ground, his ankles groaning underneath his weight and taking off along the alleyway, dodging the late night gamblers and drinkers, pick-pocketing a few.

Crossing through an open courtyard he noticed a pair of courtesans off to the side flirting with a few of the Borgia's men. He smiled wickedly, taking the passage that the guards had abandoned.

When he hit open air and the fields he picked up a white stallion and rode for some time, knocking down a few people who were too slow to get out of the way, until he heard the clash of metal on metal and loud voices. When he was closer, he jumped from the horse and dashed up the side of a house and looked down at the scene before him.

The mercenaries were only a few, while the guards seemed to be gaining ground. When he looked to the middle of the fray, he watched as a woman, probably in her thirties wield a dagger, with blood staining her once beautiful gown. When a guard closed in carrying a spear, smiling evilly, she only tightened her grip on her weapon and spread her feet apart, waiting for his attack. Circling her once he took a step back and waved his hand about, his mouth moving, most likely taunting her, still smiling.

And that was when he heard the loud bang and watched as the guard clutched his middle where blood poured out.

"Do not think that the assassini are so easy to kill. I may be a woman but you should never underestimate the tools that a woman can carry." And then she shot the other one.

She turned then and shot two more, distracting the guards so that her mercenaries could each cut through the rest of them. When there were only two left standing she stepped forward.

"You have come here, expecting to take me alive to your Master, expecting that I would be easy to capture. Easy to torture and gain information from." Ezio started to take off in the direction directly behind her where he saw the shadows move closer, but it seemed his concern was for naught. The woman turned and threw a knife into the darkness and he watched as a guard fell to the ground, dead. She turned back to the two guards still left, pointing her gun at one of them.

"Run back to your Borgia master and tell them this." She shot the one she was aiming at.

"That I, Razenshia Ruschitti, enemy of the Borgia, will die before I allow them to lay one hand on me." Then she lowered her gun and signaled to the mercenaries that were left, to allow the last one to go. The Borgia guard wasted no time and ran out of sight. Ezio whistled in approval. From this distance her beauty was enhanced by the mere fact that she was wielding a gun and a dagger. The fierce look in her eyes was enough to get his blood boiling beneath his own skin.

He would not have thought her an assassin though and most definitely not one that would kill with such brutal weapons. The beauty of her clothes, the jewelry that glinted in the firelight from her chest and her fingers and the way she held herself suggested a woman of wealthy upbringing. He slipped over the edge of the building and scaled down. He approached them slowly, when he saw a flash of crimson to his left.

He wasted no time running straight for the woman and tackling her out of the way of the guard. He landed on her, feeling her soft body beneath his and heard the sharp release of breath from her. Ezio flipped out a knife quickly and tossed it at the guard, watching him stumble and then crash at their feet. He hmphed in approval when he felt the cold steel of a knife at his throat.

"My blade is as sharp as my tongue," she whispered and he merely chuckled at her threat. Though he felt the blade at his skin, there was no pressure behind it. If she had truly meant to kill him, she would have done it already.

"Lady Ruschitti!" The mercenaries rushed to her side but Ezio looked up and at one command they halted before him.

"Ezio Auditore da Firenze. Master Assassin of the Brotherhood. Tell me." Ezio looked down, smiling into the woman's eyes as she looked him over as best she could from her position.

"Why are you here? Afraid that I would reveal the secrets of the Order?" He watched as she removed her knife from his throat and placed it back beneath her dress, probably into her corset in between her breasts. The tip of the knife was bejeweled and sparkled against her caramel colored skin, where his eyes stayed greedily. She laughed lightly and pushed up his chin with her fingertips, then reaching up and cupping his cheek, her thumb running over the scar across his lips. She reached up with her other hand, closing it around his hidden blade, fingering the mechanism.

"Of course not madonna. We simply do not wish to lose that beautiful voice of yours. Anything to bring down the Borgia." She laughed from deep in her chest and Ezio wanted to kiss the neck that was extended so elegantly before him.

"Let me up then so that I may thank you properly signore Ezio." He chuckled in return and pushed off of her body. He reached down then to help her up in return, feeling her warm and delicate hand grasp his tightly. When she was firmly on her feet she looked down at her gown and tsked.

"What a waste," and didn't even attempt to fix her dress. Up close, Ezio's first impression had not done her justice. He dark red locks hung well past her shoulders and fell over her left eye, framing her face. Her eyes were the darkest green he had ever seen. Her bottom lip was bigger than the top and she was shorter than he had first anticipated, the top of her head only just reaching his shoulders. But he could also see anger in her eyes and the lines that were showing rather quickly for her age. He knew she wasn't young, but those were lines of stress, pain and a hard life.

He reached out and wiped a streak of blood from her cheek. And as his hand fell back to his side and as a slow smile spread across her face he watched as her face crumpled before him and she screamed out in pain, reaching down and clutching her leg. Ezio looked down to find a knife protruding from her thigh and a red stain spreading out quickly through her clothes. She looked up in the direction where the knife had come from and quickly pulled her hands up in front of her face and neck when another knife slammed into her right palm, the one directly in front of her face. She screamed out again and fell onto her backside.

Ezio dashed forward and spotted a figure running in the direction of Roma. He was too slow though as Ezio quickly caught up to him and tackled him, pinning him to the ground. He listened as the hidden blade flew out, the shing of the metal ringing in his ears.

"Who sent you?!" The rogue beneath him smirked and before Ezio could stop him, thrust his neck forward onto the blade.

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Do what you will.

EM: I wrote this a long time ago. Like 2 years ago, long ago. That's right, this is a one-shot,despite the obvious ending which leads on to other places. Which means that I won't be continuing it. Unless I can find my muse that abandoned me. I had planned to go somewhere with Juno and Desmond and you can see that I had started a plot somewhere in the chapter above. Maybe all of you can figure out what I would have done with this. But something just happened and I don't know anymore.

And I am sincerely sorry for that.