A fic I wrote to satisfy a very depressing plot bunny in my mind. Essentially, it is the last time that Ezio and Leonardo see each other before Leo's death in 1519, when he is living in France. This isn't one of those happy, warm-and-fuzzy-feeling fics. This causes pain.
Disclaimer: Ubisoft owns all characters therein.
"Maestro da Vinci? We have arrived in Firenze."
Leonardo opened his eyes laboriously, sleep still weighing them down like drops of rain upon a leaf. The trip from Rome to Firenze seemed like a month's journey to him now, but he supposed that his age was creeping up on him. Slowly, he eased his way out of the opulent carriage provided for him by his patrons in Rome, the solid ground strange beneath his feet after hours of jolting on the bumpy roads. It was strange, being home: he could not remember the last time he had laid eyes upon the imposing face of the Palazzo Signoria, or heard the chiming of the bells of the Duomo. He had been working for one patron or the next, always moving, always on the footsteps of his most faithful sponsor and friend, Ezio Auditore da Firenze.
It was for Ezio that Leonardo had made this journey in the first place. After years of hearing only unfaithful rumors of his whereabouts, Leonardo had been elated to receive a letter from his old friend, assuring him of his safety and inviting him to visit his family. His family—that was what had confused him the most. Save for his mother and sister, Ezio had no family. He traveled alone and avoided true relationships for the safety of others. What, then, had he meant? Leonardo tried to deny it, but there was no other explanation: he had found a wife and settled down with her.
And why shouldn't he? After decades of serving his brotherhood, Ezio deserved the chance to rebuild the name of Auditore. Nevertheless, the realization that Ezio had been taken from him burned in his heart for a long time. He nearly cast the letter into the fire when he had first read it, but his affection for Ezio had stayed his hand. His invitation, however, went unfulfilled, for Leonardo could not bring himself to witness the life Ezio had built without him. They passed letters back and forth for months, Ezio again and again pleading to see his dear friend, and Leonardo diverting him, claiming illness or an excess of work. Leonardo's guilt grew, and the desire to see Ezio had incubated inside of him until now, nearly three years after their first correspondence. Finally, he had agreed to pay Ezio a visit.
"Come, maestro." Francesco, his young apprentice, led him gently by the arm, his grey eyes sparkling with excitement. "We must get our horses."
"Ah, Francesco, mio caro ragazzo. You treat this old man well." Francesco shook his head, dark curls gently batting his cheeks.
"You are hardly an old man, maestro. You have the heart of a child and the mind of a god." Leonardo chuckled.
"And you have the tongue of a shameless flatterer." Musical laughter bubbled from Francesco's lips, and Leonardo allowed himself to be led to the pair of horses—two sweet, doe-eyed mares—that had been prepared for them. Leonardo eased himself into the saddle, ignoring the pain in his back legs as they stretched across the mare's back. "Well, shall we press on?"
"Of course, maestro." Francesco nudged his mount down the country road and Leonardo follower, relishing the soft breeze on his face as they slowly made their way to the new Villa Auditore, nestled outside Firenze in the verdant countryside. As they rode, Leonardo tried to suppress the anxiety in his chest, fluttering like manic moths around a flame. Would he be able to face him without tears or anger? Would Ezio remember the many years they had spent together, the joy and anguish and fear that they had survived? Or did he quash all of that for the sake of his beautiful wife? Leonardo did not believe Ezio would be so cruel, but the evil thought ate at him, nonetheless. He did not think he could face him again, knowing that Ezio had put their past behind them.
As he looked about, Leonardo felt some comfort in the knowledge that things had not changed much in Firenze, despite the great turmoil that the Templars had thrust upon Italia. The famers still toiled away in their fields, the children still romped and frolicked in the wildflowers, and the wives called them pointlessly to dinner, their hands white with flour and their bellies round with the newest addition to their families. Wanderers and minstrels seeking their fortunes passed them on their tired steeds, and every so often would recognize Leonardo, and would doff their hat to him in reverence. Even in all his wanderings, Leonardo had remained a part of Firenze; he was still the boy genius from Vinci, always dreaming. He could only hope that Ezio's heart had remained just as true.
Time flew as Leonardo let his mind wander, and soon Francesco's hand gently roused him from his thoughts. "Maestro, we have arrived." Leonardo looked out at their destination: the Vila Auditore. It was modest, especially compared to his ancestral home in Firenze, but it was attractive, nonetheless. Built of light stone, it stood surrounded by rosebushes, their buds straining to blossom. In the fields beyond, healthy grapevines on their pikes twined around each other, their leaves new and green. It fit well in the countryside: elegant enough to suit an Auditore, yet simple enough to avoid causing strife among the neighboring farmers. Leonardo looked past all this for the time being, searching desperately for a glimpse of Ezio…but he was naught to be found. Instead, his eyes fell upon a woman, clothed in green with red hair escaping its braid. She turned to meet his gaze and smiled, moving quickly toward his party to greet them.
"You must be Maestro da Vinci! Oh, I have been so anxious to see you, Signore!" Leonardo forced a smile and carefully dismounted his horse.
"May I presume that you are Signorina Sartor? Err—I suppose I should say, Signora Auditore." Sofia's cheeks flushed with pleasure and she curtsied, minding her slightly swollen belly. Leonardo's heart fell into the pit of his stomach.
"I am. My husband has eagerly awaited your arrival, as have I. I have heard so much of you from Ezio—stories of your many fantastic discoveries—but to see you in the flesh is a great honor."
"Signore, I assure you: the honor is mine." Sofia led Francesco, Leonardo and the servants that had accompanied them into the main hall of the house, and as she spoke of her travels with Ezio, his eyes did not leave her. She was beautiful—but then, Ezio had always attracted the most handsome women. She was more than that, though; even Leonardo could not deny it. In her eyes gleamed a warmth and intelligence that surpassed any woman that Leonardo had ever met. She spoke with great eloquence, and her hands danced around her like excited doves escaping from their cages. It was clear even to him how Ezio had fallen in love with her. Finally, he had found an equal, someone who loved him not because he was a nobleman, or an Auditore, or even an assassin. But had he not already achieved that, long ago?
That was what stung Leonardo at heart, more than anything: after all these years, he had not been enough. He had shed blood and tears for Ezio, given him his greatest creations without a second thought. He offered up his body, and his heart—a fragile treasure he had carefully sheltered from the cruel eyes of a world that did not understand. And yet, for all of his sacrifices, Sofia could still give him more. Leonardo's hand wandered to his abdomen and groped it with desperate, searching fingers, feeling emptier than ever before.
"Maestro da Vinci?" Leonardo's gaze snapped back into focus at the sound of Sofia's voice. Her brows were furrowed with concern. "Are you alright?"
"Ahh, si, Madonna. I am fine. Would it be possible to see your husband now?" Sofia nodded and smiled.
"Certainly. I am surprised he did not come out to meet you himself." She pushed her hair out of her eyes. "His study is upstairs. While you speak, your pupil and I will set to work preparing your room."
"Grazie, signora. Your hospitality is greatly appreciated." Leonardo mustered all the humility he could and kissed Sofia's hand respectfully. She was lovely, but even so it was hard to tolerate her presence. He cursed his jealousy and instead focused on the task at hand: facing Ezio at last, after nearly four years of loneliness. Leonardo took each step slowly, ignoring the throbbing of his knees and of his heart against his chest. At the top of the stairs were a series of doors, the last of which opened to a study, comfortable furnished. Several chairs upholstered in velvet sat in a circle—likely the location of many meetings with his brethren. The curtains were drawn back from the large windows, allowing for a splendid view of the countryside, and at a grand wooden desk, elegantly carved, slept Ezio, his cheek against the smooth wood. Leonardo smiled and touched his shoulder, which rose and fell with his breath.
"Ezio? My friend?" Ezio's eyes opened, as if o command, and he yawned widely before recognizing who it was that had called to him.
"Leonardo? You—you have arrived at last, amico!" Ezio jumped to his feet and embraced him with great strength. As Leonardo looked upon him he saw that he had not aged gracefully: most of his hair had lost its color, and deep wrinkles lined the corners of his eyes and mouth. He was hardened now, even more than before, but his eyes were the same. "You have gotten old, my friend." Ezio smiled forlornly, and Leonardo suspected that he had sensed his thoughts. "We both have."
"It is true, though I hate to admit it. Might I sit down?" Ezio motioned to the circle of chair and Leonardo chose one, easing into it and sighing pleasantly. "You keep an excellent house, Ezio."
"Grazie, Leonardo. I am glad that you have decided to visit at last. I was beginning to think that you would never accept my invitation." Ezio settled into the chair next to Leonardo's, a genial smile on his face.
"You know, Ezio…it is strange to see you in such a domestic lifestyle. I did not think that you would embrace it so easily." Ezio laughed softly, but his body was tense, as if expecting a blow.
"If you had asked me twenty years ago, I would have agreed with you, but now…" Ezio leaned back in his chair, heaving a tired sigh. "I have served my Creed well, far more than my share. Now I must make time to live my life on my own terms." Leonardo nodded, wringing his hands in his.
"I see. And does that mean you have abandoned your old life? All of it?"
"What do you mean?" Ezio leaned over to touch Leonardo's arm, his face contorted in worry. "Leonardo, if you think I am trying to forget you, you could not be more mistaken. You should know from my letters that I want nothing more than to remain your friend." Leonardo's head snapped up to meet Ezio's gaze fiercely.
"But that is not entirely true, is it? You are married now, you are expecting a child…but before all of this, you had someone who loved you about all things. Have you forgotten that so easily? Or do you simply pretend for the sake of your wife?" The words spilled from Leonardo's mouth, and his shoulders shook with suppressed rage. Everything that Leonardo had kept locked inside burst forth, and as he spoke Ezio listened silently. The corners of his mouth twitched, but he did not attempt to argue. "I am sure Sofia brings you great joy, and even I can see that she is both wise and beautiful…but what is it that makes her superior to me? Is it simply because she can give you children? Or…or have your affections truly turned from me at last?" He closed his eyes, breathing heavily, the fire of his anger spent. "Forgive me, Ezio. That was cruel of me." Ezio remained quiet for a long time, the silence only broken by the rustling of trees outside. Leonardo lowered his head in shame. "I should leave."
"No, please, Leonardo! Do not." Ezio's face was pale, his eyes pleading. "Leonardo, listen to me. I have told Sofia everything. She knows about our history, as well as my love for you. Remarkable woman that she is, she accepted it without question. She understands that a man can love many, and does not question it." Ezio reached out with the desperation of a lost child and caught Leonardo's hand, pressing it to his lips. "Please, do not think that I do not love you. I have never stopped, la mia amata."
"Ezio…" Leonardo placed his hand behind Ezio's head, his shorn hair strange beneath his fingers, and pulled him into an embrace. "In my heart, I knew you did, but before I went away I had to be certain."
"What? Where are you going?" The vulnerability in Ezio's eyes threatened to keep Leonardo from telling him the truth, but it was too late to go back now.
"I have been invited by the king of France to live in one of his estates, and to serve him as he needs me. Everything has been arranged."
"Leonardo, you—you cannot go there!" Ezio clung to Leonardo with as much strength as he could muster. "You will be walking into a den of Templars! Besides that, France and England are at each other's throats again, and if they ever decided to make war, you will be caught in the middle. Please, reconsider!" Ezio caressed Leonardo's lined face, his eyes shining with tears. "I cannot lose you to them. I have already lost so much." Leonardo removed Ezio's hand and pressed it to his heart.
"You know me, Ezio. I must seek out new things, it is in my nature." Leonardo pressed a kiss to each of Ezio's cheeks, and to his lips. "If I need you," he whispered tenderly. "I will call."
"You had better, you fool." The two of them sat together, arms entwined around each other, until Sofia called them to dinner. They did not speak of France again; the night went on peacefully, with the three of them talking quietly over wine and tea long into the twilight.
Late into the night, Leonardo tossed and turned restlessly in the bed Ezio and Sofia had prepared for him. Even as he was reconciled with Ezio, the pain of their impending separation weighed heavily on his heart. When the morning came, he would depart with the morning chill his only companion, the soft mist cloaking the meadow. He remembered, long ago, when he could crawl into Ezio's bed to ward off the cold or his sadness, but now that space was occupied by another, and no matter how much they loved each other, Leonardo could not invade it. He sat silently against his pillows, gazing out his window at the sleeping countryside until the creaking of his door startled him out of his daydreaming.
"Who is there?" Leonardo fumbled for a candle.
"No, leave it. It is me." Ezio made his way to Leonardo's bedside slowly, careful not to stub his toes in the dark. "I heard you shifting about in here. I thought I should check on you." Leonardo smiled but there was no heart in it.
"Ah, Ezio. You worry yourself over me prematurely" But Ezio did not turn back. Instead, he gently eased himself onto the bed and pulled the sheets over his scarred legs. Leonardo could feel their heat beside him. "Ezio?"
"Hush, mio caro. I know why you do not sleep." Ezio pulled Leonardo close and buried his face into his neck, his breath hot on his skin. "I cannot sleep either, Leonardo." He pressed tender kisses to the crook of Leonardo's neck and lowered them into the bed, where they fell asleep in each other's arms for the last time. Yet, somehow, it felt like the first.