A/N; Rosa Will Come Later! Boring background stuff first, but things will get more exciting I promise!
Feet against shingles - the gentle rhythm was all too well known. These measured beats were the soundtrack to Ezio's life for the past four years. It was to this music that he both fled and fought. But it seemed liked forever ago since that soundtrack led him home. Firenze. The crisp night air filled his lungs as he breathed the familiar breeze greedily. He had been avoiding Florence for a long list of good reasons but somehow he had managed to wind up right where he'd started. It was in this glorious city where his family had once prospered. His father, through his business, created a life for his family which spared no luxury. But that had all been taken away.
"Business" Ezio muttered. Giovanni Auditore had failed to tell his middle son what it was his business actually entailed. A life spent unaccompanied had a generous amount of time for thinking and although the young man had turned the thought of his father as an assassin over and over in his mind he still had failed to come to terms with the truth. How had this been kept from him for so long? Had he truly been so blind, so preoccupied or was his father simply skilled in secrecy? And if so what are the reasons for keeping this from him? Was he ever to know? And sometimes, selfishly and in moments of doubt, Ezio wondered if this career choice was even meant him or if Federico was the son who was to carry on this legacy and he was purely a last resort.
He stopped running, finding a perch overlooking Piazza Vecchio and crouched. This place haunted him. The last words he spoke to his father echoed hollowly in his head as he gazed up at the prison tower. He'd been so naive then, trusting that things would simply work out... But he was beginning to understand finally that things never simply 'worked out' - what was that?
He looked upward, thankfully distracted from his brooding by a small white shape. A feather? Subconsciously he navigated a path for himself and followed it blindly. It was a silly thing he did, really, collecting the tokens Petruccio had once requested of him. Tucked away somewhere, Ezio still foolishly thought they would bring him back but now he had just slipped into routine, wanting to collect the mementos to honor the boy. He examined it all the while musing over what it was for that Petruccio had been collecting these. 'It's a secret' he had said, the small face swimming in his vision. He wondered briefly what the boy would look like now.
"You should not be up here!" That was a sign that he had lingered for too long. Ezio tucked the eagle's feather into a pocket and quickly scanned the area, searching for a bale of hay or leaves, anything for an easy exit. Ah! There. He ran, dove neatly and landed with a hard clunk in the back of a cart. He squinted in mild pain, and grasped a wooden handle of a rake. "That's going to leave a mark..." he muttered, moving it away from his back and then, with stealth he leapt from the cart, unnoticed by everyone.
It was just as well that he'd been sighted, had Ezio been allowed to sit and think forever on end he'd have forgotten his purpose entirely: he'd come to see Leonardo, a man of admirable genius who would be able to help decrypt a few documents. And on the other hand, it had been a while since he'd seen da Vinci. Although he spoke a constant stream Ezio never understood the two found friendship in each other and were (he liked to believe) of equal use to one another. Though that had not yet been proven.
His feet once again led him, this time down a familiar alley way. He knew the path instinctively. Moving in and out of crowds Ezio promptly found himself at the inventor's doorstep, though something was different. His brow furrowed, unable to place it. He glanced to his left, shrouded by the shadow of the arched doorway. The streets were mildly busy with the usual milling about of people and clusters of courtesans fawning and flaunting. Nothing looked unusual yet... there was a silence lingering that he'd never witnessed. He knocked and yelled for his friend. Nothing. Again he called. Still nothing. Leonardo hardly left his studio, he had no reasons to - his errands were run by others and in any case he was usually so invested in his work that he saw no reason to leave. Had something happened? And then:
"Ma dispiace Messer Ezio, but he is gone. Maestro Leonardo was commissioned by a venetian noble to paint some portraits. He paid for the Maestro to move his entire workshop to Venezia, it's quite an opportunity!" It was one of the errand boys.
"Grazie mille friend" He responded and before he could ask, the answer was given.
So Leonardo had been commissioned by a Venetian. Of course he would find this out now, right when he was in need of his friend.
Ezio had never been to Venice, but every new destination seemed to bring him a new adventure. Or perhaps it was the other way around?
A/N; First chapter, one of many I hope! Just a heads up I like to put easter eggs in my writing (little ironies and clues and tidbits that seem irrelevant but are put in the text for a reason) and if you ever find one I'll be so so so pleased with myself. And with you, of course.
Italian Lessons!
Ma dispiace Messer - I'm sorry sir
Grazie mille - Thanks a lot