A/N: Because you guys are SO FREAKING AMAZING AND WONDERFUL, you get chapter two tonight. Thank you for the reviews! And the views! And everything! Seriously, it means SO MUCH to me, because this is the first really successful story I've put up. Lets see if I can get to 10 reviews after this chapter maybe?

Now, this one's a little cruel and evil. And also where the T rating comes into play, so just a forewarning. I typed up the midle as an edit, so there's a good chance this chapter will be modified slightly just to make it more coherent. Regardless, please do read, review and enjoy!

EDIT!: I made a few changes that make it more clear where paragraphs begin and end. I also fixed a few grammar and spelling errors. Also, I watched the Revelations trailers for the first time today. I have to say...I can't freaking WAIT until November. I mean, this game looks great. I'm super excited. Also, to Beach Vampire 17, I never did really say, but she's about 17. I'd say Ezio is in his late 40's at this point. I also have a new favorite song! Iron, by Woodkid. If you haven't seen the trailer, do it and listen to that song!

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Elia stumbled to a halt, trying to wrench herself free from the iron like grip of the guards, but to no avail. She was exhausted; she'd been fighting their pull the entire way, and now, after her final attempt to free herself the assassin settled for spitting on the shoes of the guards on either side of her. She'd get her chance to escape soon enough.

"Take the mask off, it's bothering me," said the man dressed in civilian clothing, making Elia suck in a breath, eyes narrowing behind the green satin mask.

"Don't touch it." She hissed, the tone in her voice dangerous. The man laughed briefly, motioning to one of the guards beside him.

The guard stepped forward and reached to untie the ribbon the held the mask to her face—the young assassin glared at him snapped at his hand when it got too close. He flinched away and swore angrily, reaching forward again and grabbing her roughly on the jaw before he pulled the mask from her face. It was to the ground and the guard brought his foot down on it, moving back to his previous position to the side of the other guards afterward. Elia flinched, staring at the crumpled mess that was left behind. Her face fell as she took it in—she'd liked that mask quite a bit, and now it was ruined. Not to mention it wasn't cheap. She looked up and glared heatedly at the man who she assumed was the leader of this group of damned guards.

He had turned to look at her now and something like recognition flashed across his face. Elia felt her stomach turn over as a wicked grin split the man's face.

"Do you know who this is, boys?" He crowed, crossing his arms and looking around at his men. The all took as good of a look at Elia's face as they could, shaking their heads slowly after a moment.

"Who is it, sir?" One of them asked their leader.

"Elia Auditore." Those two words made Elia shiver with dread, regretting ever breaking her father's rules. Until now, she was fully confident in her ability to escape from these men, but a sliver of doubt wormed its way into her mind. She looked back and forth between the men who held her and the man who she assumed was a Borgia captain

"I think we've got ourselves a nice bargaining chip, men. Throw her in the Vatican's prison. It's not too far a walk from here. I'm going to compose a letter to signore Auditore." The Borgia captain spoke dismissively, waving his hand in the direction of the exit of the building as he turned to go into another room. "Perhaps he needs to be informed of what he's missing." Elia began to struggle again, growing panic giving her a small amount of strength.

"W-wait, no, I'm not—" She spoke until a gloved hand clamped over her mouth.

"Shut up, scum," he hissed, "You're lucky to be alive at all."

Elia swallowed, her throat dry, knowing full well that his words were true.

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"Get her!" Howled a rooftop soldier, his pounding footsteps urging Elia to run faster. She stole a glance behind her, eyes widening as she noticed more guards chasing her behind the original one on the roof. Looking to the streets below she spotted three of the original guards who she had escaped from—the fourth was, as far as she was aware, laying with his neck severed nearly in half in the middle of the street.

I will not let them catch me again! She told herself firmly, using all of her strength to run up a wall and climb it. If she made it to the water, she could swim away—guards couldn't swim, and their useless rock throwing did not concern her. She strained herself to climb faster as the guards caught up to the base of the tower she was climbing. She flinched instinctively as several rocks chipped the stones beside and below her. She spared a glance downward and then doubled her efforts of climbing the tower when the rest of the guards caught up to the tower. Her breath was coming out in ragged gasps as she pushed herself harder than she knew she would be able to handle for long.

A sharp pain seared through Elia's arm, and then her back. She heart shouts of excitement from the guards below as her grip on the wall loosened and she began to drop. She felt her stomach drop and reached desperately for another handold. After dropping several meters, she grabbed hold of a windowsill and pressed herself as close to the wall of the tower as she could.

"Give it up, kiddo! You've got nowhere to go!" Called a man from below. Elia scowled and snarled down at him, "Go jump off the aqueduct and die!" She immediately regretted the decision to retorting when she felt a sharp pain between her shoulder blades. Dust and slivers of stone blinded her as another rock collided with the wall close to her head, and a final stone struck her left hand, making her lose her grip and fall.

Blinded, Elia fell without hope of regaining her grip on the wall to the ground below her. The impact with the ground made her yell out in agony—she twisted into a ball and bit her own arm to contain any more cries of pain. She had definitely broken some sort of bone, or at the very least bruised several, although she was unable to tell. The thought of the injury paled, however, as she felt several hands roughly pulling her to her feet and holding her in an uncomfortable position. One of the men elbowed her in the ribs and she was unable to hold back a scream of pain. She pitched forward, unaware that she was now sobbing from the agony that radiated from the broken ribs on her right side.

"Oh, damn, we broke it." Chuckled one of the guards, gripping her hair and pulling her head back so he could speak directly to her, "You lose, sweetheart. Things might've been better for you if you'd gone quietly." Elia was having trouble focusing on the words that were coming from his mouth—all she was able to process was the constant pain coming from her side. Soon enough, even that became too much. She welcomed the darkness that enveloped her senses, however—it was so much better than facing the hell that was going to come.

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Elia sat with her knees pressed to her forehead, tears leaking silently down her face. Ezio had been right. He had been completely, utterly right—as he usually was. Why had she thought that she was so invincible that she could make it through the night without a scratch? Why didn't she just accept that Ezio—a master assassin—knew much more about this city than she did?

She took in an angry, shaky breath, balling her hands up and rubbing her eyes viciously to remove evidence of the tears. She would stick this out, and she would do it with no more sign of weakness. She would escape. She would survive. The sound of footsteps made her head snap up, breaking her from her thoughts. The sight of who approached her cell made her all but retch in disgust.

"I heard we had a valuable bargaining token on our side…I did not expect to see the assassin's daughter." Cesare Borgia's narrowed eyes rested on Elia as she stood and walked up to the bars of the prison cell, baring her teeth in disgust.

"You're scum, Borgia. Scum from the bottom of the deepest, darkest, must filth-ridden well. Does it feel nice to know the only woman you'll ever fuck is your sister?" The sneer on her face was wiped away when Cesare spat on it, causing her to reel back and frantically wipe the filth off her face.

"You're lucky I need you intact for your daddy, darling, or else your tongue would have been cut out the moment you foul mouthed my guards." Elia grinned wickedly.

"It looks like you're stuck with the female version of Ezio Auditore da Firenze, Borgia." She said his name in the most hateful tone she could muster, "Enjoy it, you incestuous bitch." Her words dripped with loathing and disgust so thick, Elia could nearly taste it herself. Cesare stared at the young assassin for several seconds. He then grinned in such a way that made a tingle of fear slide down her spine.

"She's all yours, boys," the Borgia man called to the guards who stood at attention near the entrance of the room. They turned their heads, exchanging glances in confusion.

"Go on, go enjoy yourselves. The assassin won't receive the letter for quite a while now…" Elia backed up several steps to press her back against the stone of her cell as she began to understand what Borgia was implying.

The guards exchanged a look that made the color drain from her face. A chuckle breached Cesare's throat, echoing eerily through the damp room.

"If you're anything like your father, dear," He began, walking away as the two guards slowly approached her cell, "you'll enjoy this." Elia's breathing hitched up as panic began to cloud any clever or coherent thought away. She slid to the floor, her eyes wide with fear. Her knees pressed into her chest, her bruised ribs making her gasp in pain. She desperately wished she could shut out the grating sound of metal against metal as the door to her cell opened and the two men approached her with grins that twisted her stomach into painful knots. Fear, pain, and a desperate need to block out the world brought the girl to squeeze her eyes shut, praying silently in her head.

Oh, god, Ezio, please get here soon.