Okay, here I am with another short fill for a prompt on pt. 2, pg. 36 of the kinkmeme. D: We aren't getting as many requests anymore, so it might be a while before I make my next choice.

Leonardo wasn't some weakling. Hell, being an artist way back then would've taken enormous strength. And apparently, Leonardo could bend metal rods with his bare hands because of all the muscle he had. :)

Ezio was infuriated. And if the expressions of fear on his apprentices faces were anything to go by, someone would be dead by the end of it.

"And he was captured how?"

His voice was calm, and one of the apprentices stepped back slightly.

"C-Cesare t-took him, maestro."

Ezio snarled and whirled around.

"You had better hope that Leonardo is not injured, or not even God will be able to spare you! Machiavelli! I am going after Leonardo. You are in charge!"

The man gave him a slightly interested look as the master assassin stormed from the building.

He was rushing along the buildings, rooftop to rooftop, not sparing a single guard. Every man that crossed his path and happened to be in a Templar's uniform was slaughtered without a chance of redemption. Ezio's worry powered him to move faster toward the castle. There wasn't a coherent though in his head as he jumped over the street onto the next roof and landed skillfully. The apprentices' only task had been to protect the man. And they had failed, worse yet, to Cesare.

When he arrived, he was covered in blood but slowly calming down. He leaped for each guard as he pushed to the the dungeon, and when he reached it, he killed the watchman before he knew what was coming. Ezio frisked the man down and pulled out the keys from inside his shirt, feeling his anger morph into worry as he walked into the dungeon.

"Leonardo! Are you in here?"

There came a soft reply. "Ah, Ezio! It is you."

He felt his worry subside a little. The dungeon was dark, and there was little light without a torch.

"I am coming. Are you injured?"

"Yes, a little, but it is not much."

The intense worry returned for his friend. He backtracked to pull a torch from the wall and walked farther into the dungeon. The artist had a tendency to assess others' wounds well, but not so much when it was his own wounds. "Are you sure you are okay?"

He could hear the artist's quiet laughter. "Yes, Ezio, I am almost perfectly okay."

Finally, into his torchlight came the figure of Leonardo, who was brushing himself off. He had a black eye and looked a little frazzled, but otherwise "just peachy." He could see the dark of the cell and its bars behind the artist.

"I must thank you for the distraction, my friend," the artist said as he patted down his pants. "And thank God for Cesare's stupidity. How many times did I tell him to make the bars in these dungeons thicker? To think such a man leads the Templars: you should have no problem taking him down."

Ezio was still in shock. Leonardo was standing in front of him, outside the cell. The torchlight was shining over him, casting shadows, and by all Hell, Leonardo was standing outside of the cell.

"Ezio, are you okay?"

He opened his mouth to speak but furrowed his brow instead.

"Ezio?"

"L—Leonardo, how did you escape your cell?"

"Huh?"

Leonardo looked over his shoulder, and then, turned around to look at the bars. Ezio stepped up beside him to see the metal rods bent in a diamond shape, just large enough for someone to slip through.

"I pushed the bars apart. You see, Ezio: I had recommended that Cesare increase the thickness of them just so someone couldn't break out. Well, the man was highly offended and threw me in here. I have dealt with harder things than this. All I needed was the right time to escape the dungeon, and you, my friend, have provided it for me. The guards forgot me when you arrived and began hunting them down."

Ezio stared at the bars, misshapen and ill-aligned. They were folded into diamonds, and he could see where Leonardo had placed his hands. Suddenly, he felt extremely self-conscious: the last time he had been caught in a cell like that, he had not been able to escape.

"Ezio? My friend, let us leave. This place reeks of death. Did you kill every guard in here?"

He turned to look at the artist, drawing his lips into a thin line.

"Yes, Leonardo, I was worried."

He saw Leonardo smile. "Ah, good, well not that you were worried, but that you were on your way. I was hoping that you would come. I do not enjoy fighting myself, as you know."

Ezio stared at the man as the artist stepped close to him. The keys dangled uselessly in Ezio's hand. Leonardo perked up as they walked out of the dungeon.

"Have I told you of the great new invention I have designed while stuck in there?"

He shook his head slowly, and a slow smile crept onto his lips as he pitched the keys behind him. He could hear them clank on the stairs as they walked on the plush carpet in the hall. "No, my brother, you have not."

"Excellent! As I was down there, I started thinking about the strain that muscles go through when pushing or pulling. It is by that which we obtain muscle mass, yes? Yes, well, what if there was some sort of device that shook itself up and down, causing your muscles to tense and relax as you try to hold it still? Granted, such a device would look incredibly stupid, I know, but then surely, we could give it to your apprentices, and they could use it until they, too, can bend the bars, hm? What do you think?"

Ezio was quiet for a few minutes.

"I think, Leonardo, that such a shaking weight is a ridiculous idea."

Leonardo sighed. "Yes, I had thought that is what you might say—"

"Because then I will need it so that I can become stronger than you."

He smirked and took off down the road with Leonardo's hat in his hand. He might not be as strong, but he was certainly quicker, which made teasing the artist all the more fun.