OHAITHUR. Yes, I am back, once more, with another multi-chaptered fic. Why? Because I've been playing Asssassin's Creed II since Sunday, and love it. And, also, I don't have another reason why.
So, I don't know when this is based. In between everything. Yeah, its just in there, somewhere. From the beginning to I don't know when. I haven't planned this out as thoroughly as other fics. Spur of the moment thing.
With saying that, I support Ezio/Rosa. Completely. Wholly. And this fic may make me look like a hypocrite, but just wait! I planned something. Aha, not well, but I have planned something.
If you would like to see what I have based my OC's general appearance on, just ask.
Read on, review. Reviews are loved, but flames adored.
Do not own.
She was pulled along like a common mule, into the middle of the swarm of people. Her husband was completely oblivious to this fact, instead holding a gleeful expression on his face. She knew he would ignore this, but still sulked behind his back.
She hated crowds, considering that she was being held captive in her own villa and only being allowed to wander through the excessive amount of hills with a guard – and even that was a rare occasion, only happening whenever her husband felt generous.
"Look, Elda, look at the lights, the fireworks … you should feel privileged to be alive!" he shouted over the roar of the crowd.
Elda smiled at him, with perfect practice. These little smiles in at the right time made him happy and think he had complete control over her – but he was generally wrong about this. Had he known where all the extra money lying around the villa went, instead of going to the normal place – the courtesans – maybe he would think twice about who owed who.
Out of boredom, she went off into her own world for a moment or two, making herself think back to the wonderful thought of freedom. But this would never happen, as she could not pull herself to kill her husband – at least not cleanly – and the mere thought of running away made her shudder. She did not know the world outside the villa like most, and stepping into it with little knowledge scared her senseless.
Someone pushed past her, sending shocks up her arm as a bout of nerves hit her. She stepped closer to her husband, looking up at the person who had bumped into her. He looked no older than she did, but she could see he had aged drastically as his eyes sent her a somewhat tired glance. But behind that tired look, she could see a familiar emotion of deep desire, swimming beneath the surface. This amused her greatly, as he seemed like the person who, no matter how tired, would still have the energy to jump into the nearest bed with a woman.
"My apologies," he said, his voice as smooth as the silk she slept in.
Elda raised an eyebrow, feeling a sudden need to play along with the building game.
She tilted her head to the side, so the fringe of her mask would not obscure the sight of her mouth.
"Apologies accepted," she whispered back, her voice lost in another bout of a roar from the crowd.
But he read her lips with ease, a smile tugging at his own. He bowed lowly, but kept his head up, staring her in the eye as he did so. She smiled, and turned away.
His chuckle reached her ears, and he was gone as she looked back. A smile rested on her lips, and she hoped that they would meet each other once more. He was entertaining to say the least.
Her husband had not seen any of this, but tugged at her arm nonetheless, bringing her back into reality. She felt a surge of hatred towards him and resisted the urge to let her anger spill over into a very public announcement.
"Time to go, my dear," he said loudly, and pulled her out of the crowd.
She narrowed her eyes but followed. A few people moved out of the way, either shooting confused glances or ones filled with dirty knowledge. Her stomach squirmed and she bowed her head forward.
She could not bear children, and it angered Angelo too much. He did not beat her for it, but rather verbally abused her in his own house, and finding comfort in the arms of courtesans.
She thought, rather sourly, that if he had not ordered her lover's assassination, she may be a better wife. May even be able to bear children.
They reached the door of a house being lent out to them by an apparent friend of Angelo's, one she had yet to meet. Elda guessed that the friend was a woman who held a great deal of wealth to her name, when they had first set foot in the house. Her theory was proven correct as a numerous amount of paintings in one of the studies were of the same person.
It was an elaborate house, maybe a little overly done up on the amount of silk, but she could not complain. She loved the feeling of having more money than what sat in her bank account. Made her feel like she was restored to her original position in society.
Angelo walked off, most likely going to find liquor of some sort.
Elda walked up the staircase to the second level, walking into her room and wrinkling her nose at the smell of it. No matter how hard she tried, the smell of some sweet powder clung to the walls, refusing to relinquish its hold.
Angelo mistook it for her perfume and claimed that he loved it. Elda knew he was talking about the person who owned the house. She had not believed at first that it was a woman, but paintings made her theory slide away.
She slipped out of dress and put her mask to the side, being careful as the value of it was almost too great for her to bear. A gift from Angelo, for being a lovely wife. She thought it to be an apology, as he seemed to give many gifts at the time of the Carnevale, from beginning to end.
Elda amused herself with the thought that he may feel slightly guilty for ruining the chances of a child for himself by killing off the one person that made her happy.
Pulling her hair out of its tight braiding, Elda sank into her bed, pulling the covers over her. She stared out the window, listening to all the children running through the streets, laughing away. She clamped a pillow over her ears and willed herself to fall asleep.
The night flew by her eyes, as it seemed sleep decided to avoid her. A feeling of expectation had taken over her the moment the moon had started rising higher and higher. She did not know what it was for, but she was waiting for it to leave.
The door of her bedroom opened and she nearly scowled in disgust.
Angelo's heavy feet made their way to her bed, and she felt the bed dip to one side as he sat down. His rough, calloused hands ran down her arm. She turned over, looking up at him.
God, she hated him.
He pushed her back, roughly running his hands down her body, pressing his own harder against hers. His hands pulled her thighs apart, and he sank into her.
She hissed in pain, hardly wet at the abruptness of his movements. Heaven forbid him to try to arouse her in the slightest before having his way.
The pain only doubled as he thrust in and out. Feeling the need to try and reduce that, she thought back to the man who had bumped into her earlier.
His dark eyes sent warmth to the pit of her stomach, and the lust behind them, hopefully directed at her, filled her with a need too great.
She imagined he was on top of her, the one yelling her name as Angelo came. She pretended, looking up at him and seeing those dark eyes instead of Angelo's light ones.
Angelo rolled out of her, and promptly fell asleep, snoring away. Elda scowled, and walked uncomfortably to her dresser, taking out a robe. In the bathroom, she examined her body, noticing fresh bruises blossoming underneath her dark skin.
"Fantastic," she hissed.
Ringing one of the bells for her maids, she waited. They ran a bath, not paying attention to the scowl on Elda's face, or they were but not making note of it.
The bath was full and steaming within minutes. Elda ushered the maids away, sinking into the water, and wincing from the pain.
She sat with her back to the bedroom door, lent her head back, and closed her eyes.
The expectation in her body started building to a greater response, often known as curiosity.
Yes, she was curious to know what would happen. She expected something to happen.
There was a slight creak in the other room. Her back stiffened in response. Calming herself into believing that it was only her stupid husband rolling over in the bed, she sank deeper into the water.
Just before her ears sank below the water, she heard a gurgle and a deep voice saying something distinctly like 'rest in peace'.
She shot up out of the water, pulling a robe on and striding into the bedroom. She had not noticed that the sun was rising now, and a man, so different from her large husband, stood at the opposite side of the room. He stood worried, not sure how to react.
Elda looked down at her husband, raising an eyebrow at the blood blossoming from where he had been struck in the heart.
"Thank the Holy Father," Elda sighed, and crossed her arms over her chest.
"You are grateful for my killing of him?" the man asked, seemingly astounded and motioned to her dead husband.
Elda nodded.
"You are quite the strange one."
"So I've been told."
The sunlight flew through the open window with purpose and light up the blasted pink walls, dipping them in an orange glow.
She saw his features a little more clearly, noticing that he resembled the man she had met the previous night.
"Am I allowed to see the face of my husband's killer?" Elda asked.
The man bowed and pulled back his hood. Elda smiled.
"You are the man who bumped into me the previous night."
"I am sure there were many men who bumped into you last night."
"Yes, but out of them, only your eyes held a gaze that intense."
He opened his mouth to say something, and stopped, instead smiling at her.
"Now, what a horrible mess, all over the stupid woman's bed. Could you have poisoned him instead? It would just be his blood on himself and not the sheets."
Elda sighed. She wondered what she was to do now. She could return to Tuscany and live out the rest of her life in solitude. She wondered what another option was.
"Where will you go now?"
Elda looked up. "Most likely back to my villa in Tuscany. Alone." She added.
The man seemed to be considering something.
"Are you the assassin, who has tales reaching the ears of people already?" Elda asked.
"I did not know I was already popular amongst people."
Elda laughed. "No, but there has been talk, that the Templars may fall this time."
He shrugged.
"May I have your name?"
"Ezio Auditore."
Elda nodded.
"Yours?"
"Elda Acerbi."
Ezio smiled.
He moved away from the wall and stepped closer to Elda. Elda stared up at him.
"Yes?" she asked quietly.
He kissed both of her cheeks and moved away. Elda continued to stare.
"Take me with you," she said defiantly.
Ezio stiffened slightly, but sighed. "I can not do that."
"Why?"
"Because you should be grieving over the death of your husband! You should not be asking his killer to take you away!"
"What if I do not like doing things the way I am supposed to? Besides, I do not care for his death, he deserves it."
"Scorned," Ezio said under his breath.
"True. But he ordered the man who I was to marry to be assassinated, and beat me so badly that I can not have children. He deserves death."
Ezio remained still.
"Now, I will ask again. Will you take me with you?"
I know my character may seem Mary-Sue, already, but I'm trying not to make her that way. She can't fight well, so she won't be saving Ezio. Because we all know Ezio can take care of himself.
So, if you are going to flame on her being Mary-Sue, FLAME WELL. That's all I ask, and I will try to edit her.
Thank you.