A/N: Dear god. This was supposed to be a Valentine's Day prompt, but I saw the prompt some scant days before the day itself, and it usually takes me weeks to flesh out a good story. So just bear with the fact that now it's April Fools', when this story is set around January-February. I suck at keeping track of time and prioritizing. Hope you guys enjoy, though!

I've got half of all this down (up to part VI) and I'll be posting them one by one soon.

So this is a kinkmeme fill that went wrong, but here it is anyway:

(TL; DR version) Claudia meets a young man in Monteriggioni and they have a cute young love affair.

And FYI, there IS an OC here, Luciano Stillitano, pet name Luca. I did research for the last name and everything. (Didn't really help, lol.)

Bio:

Hair- Short and brown, kind of like the officer's or Federico's

Eyes- Blue

Skin tone- tanned, olive

Height and build- a little under 6-ft, light but still muscular build, and he gets made fun of by other mercenaries about it

Clothing- he's not a full blown mercenary so his clothes are still nice; tunics and breeches, occasionally coats.

Personality- warm and kind, can't kill for a million Claudias so he ends up a mercenary-messenger/secretary/nanny.

History- his father and one brother are mercenaries but in different places. He didn't have a choice and was forced into mercenary-hood, but as I said earlier he can't kill for anything and can't really handle swords so he just takes care of their accounts and stuff. And no other mercenary really knows but he's really skilled with the small weapons and projectiles.

-linebreak-

Giving Chase

By xCamilleon

2011

I

January 1480, Monteriggioni

"A presto, Ezio," muttered a bored Claudia as she turned the book back to her and continued to do the sums. From the corner of her eye she watched as Ezio shot her a pitying look, then walked towards the chest to collect his income.

The jingle of coin on coin in his pouch was no longer annoying or saddening, in the sense that he'd be leaving again and putting his life in danger; she had become used to him coming back quickly during a mission to collect his share in the earnings and have the architects renovate some dreary buildings, then leave again to far off places she'd probably never see herself. She hated him for it; she wanted to leave and see the world with him, but no, she'd been given the task of caring for their catatonic mother and looking after the damn book, in this depressingly dreary city, and she just—well, she hated it.

"I am leaving for Venezia again, sister," he asked, turning to face her as he secured the pouch on his belt. He always asked this before he left. "is there anything you would like for me to look for? Some cloth, or jewels perhaps?"

Claudia shook her head. She had just received special gifts from Lorenzo de Medici upon Ezio's completion of his mission; suffice to say her wardrobe was full of fashionable gowns for the next year. And she didn't need jewels. She would never get to wear them out, anyway, so what would their purpose be? So she gave her typical answer as well.

"I only wish to go with you, Ezio," she would say, then he would shake his head.

"You know very well that I can't do that, Claudia," he said. "I would if I—"

"Yes, I know, 'you would if you could,'" she said, feeling slight pinpricks of heat behind her eyes. "Just go, Ezio."

She pressed her quill to the paper harder in frustration as she continued to add up and balance the values that were contained in the book, that there was some unpaid tax from the brothel and doctor, the blacksmith was giving too much, and such; she'd see them righted tomorrow. She barely noticed Ezio and the architect speaking of what would be renovated next, until Ezio picked a building, paid the architect, and left, the architect happily saying after him, "Bon viaggio, Ser Ezio! I will see to it that the Barracks are renovated by the end of the month!"

And that was when her quill snapped.

Ink bled on the paper, going on in an indefinite blob as Claudia thought furiously.

Military Barracks.

Mercenaries.

Disgusting, foul-breathed, whore-loving, drunken, unsanitary, ruthless, beastly men.

And she'd have to contact them, and meet with them, and manage their taxes and deal with their men. More of the men who practiced in the ring in the front courtyard of the villa, who, when she passed by, whistled their admiration of her breasts or… well, breasts, and joked about how easy it would be to have her in their beds. More of the men who killed and fought for money, more dealing with wounded idiots that can't hold up swords and mace.

She hated Ezio as she begrudgingly added 'Military Barracks' to her list of guilds, ink spilling in splotches onto the paper.