It Begins With A Little Convincing...

"No."

The Italian leaned back into a haystack and groaned when Altair brusquely refused his same invitation another time that evening. Clicking his tongue in disappointment, Ezio confirmed the answer with strong reluctance.

"Really…? No?"

"No."

At this point 'no' had become a rather predictable response, but it was a response Ezio did not find worth accepting. Shaking his head in hapless frustration, the man huffed and glared at the stony-faced assassin who didn't even spare a glance at him, the matter brought forth seemingly unimportant on his list of priorities. His tanned skin was shiny with sweat under the blazing sun and his movements were repetitive in how he efficiently stabbed the pitchfork into the hay, flinging what straw he gathered into the cart behind him. Ezio sighed and leant forward with swiftly recovered determination, eyes on that cold, aloof expression at all times. He needed to find a chink in this man's armor to work with, something he could use that would wheedle the Arabian into conformation. Surely he could convince him to accompany him to the tavern, somehow…

"Why do you say no, Altair? It's just one night, and one night of fun won't hurt you. It will be something pleasurable… I promise it. So why don't you come?" He lightly flung a calloused hand into the air, an expression that begged the other man's thoughtfulness, but Altair didn't appear to care for such desperation.

Tossing another pile of straw over his shoulder, the Syrian assassin paused to wipe at his mouth and stared firmly at the man crouched at his feet. "Promised or not, I am not interested in such a trip. This thing of yours is trivial Ezio, and it is not something that requires my attendance. Now khalas; leave me alone. I have things to do." Hoisting the equipment firmly in both gloves, he lifted his arms and stabbed into the straw again.

The Italian sighed, batting away lingering flies with an unbothered hand. No matter how hard he tried, even going to such lengths as to sit in the sun and accompany the man whilst he busied himself with such monotonous duties, Altair would never relent. Altair would never give for what Ezio wanted, ever, and the Florentine hated the characteristic lack of compassion he had for others. He didn't know how to appeal to such a difficult individual, and so he intended to constantly annoy him with offerings instead.

Forcing the desperation out of his tone was no easy ordeal. "Per favore, amico. Come with me, please. I'll pay for your drink, si? I'll… I'll pay for any cost that might burden you. And if you'll have it, I can grab for you some women to choose from as we-"

Ezio winced as the pitchfork was shoved into the golden fodder beside him with an irritated fierceness. The Arabian growled, disallowing the other man from finishing his attempt at whiny persuasion, bending down to glare the assassin in the eye and admonish him instead.

"Did I not already say no, Ezio? I am not available, nor do I vie to be. Find someone else to accompany you; Connor, or Edward perhaps. If they should be free, take them. Now please, Auditore, stop bothering me." Altair stood straight again, shaking his head discouragingly at the other man before his attention was lost to the haystack he was working on, driving the prongs down with more force than necessary as he muttered foreign profanities under his breath.

And Ezio…?

Ezio still wouldn't give up.

The Italian grimaced and crossed his legs, clutching at his boots and taking the opportunity to complain despite his companion's blatant annoyance. " But… I can't ask Connor... He'll give me that look! You know, the one where he stares at me as if I'm one of those animals he hunts. His glares alone can kill, I tell you. Pauroso,"

Ezio shivered and Altair rolled his eyes, tossing another load carelessly behind him.

" And Edward… Well, he's not the most friendly bastardo I've ever met either. I don't know him well enough that I would want to treat him to a drink anyway. You, on the other hand-"

"Why don't you go by yourself, or take a woman with you?" The Syrian was quick to retort, giving the other a warning look before digging into the centre of the haystack again. Ezio huffed at his remark and surveyed the wide xanthous fields surrounding them, drawing his knees up to his chin with a crestfallen shrug.

"I just want to have a bit of fun, and I can't really do that alone. Women… They're fun so long as they're in a bed with me. Otherwise… eh." He shrugged again, and Altair glanced away.

"Hmph."

"Besides, why is it that you don't want to come with me, Altair?" Ezio planted his hands on his lowered knees, glancing up and flinching when he was suddenly met with a death glare. "Hey, don't look at me like that! I'm just curious. Please, ditemi. I'm all ears."

Altair remained still and quiet for a while, the high-pitched whinnying of a horse and far-off bark of a dog being of the only few things that disrupted the stillness. Ezio did not speak, and the Arabian assassin doubted he would until he was delivered an explanation that would satisfy him. The question wasn't one Altair would often care to explain, especially considering how his uncaring nature should have justified his actions well enough, but it was still a rather rational inquiry. And well, if it got Ezio off of his back… It might just be a question worth answering then.

Dropping the pitch-fork into the largely-reduced pile of hay, Altair lowered himself into a sitting position beside the other with an exhausted ease. Ezio scooted over a little to make room for him beside the mound of straw, but the Arabian didn't require the space. He closed his eyes and took a brief, relieving breath, then set about mitigating his response in a way that would hopefully shut the Italian up once and for all.

"There are several reasons why I do not wish to go," Altair began strongly, lifting his left hand (the one from which a certain limb had been detached, Ezio noticed) and raised his index finger. "For one, I dislike going to places rich with crowds when there is no particular reason as to why I should be there. In my perception, sitting about a place filled with potential enemies is not amusing. It is unnerving and it is difficult for me to relax in such an environment... You are aware that I'd much rather be alone." Wringing his hands, Altair glowered at Ezio when he looked like he might have wanted to say something. Quickly the Italian assassin caught on, closing his mouth and beckoning for the other to continue.

"Another thing… Alcohol and I do not mix well. From past experience it does no good for me, and I would rather not commit anything I'll later regret. To steer clear of the substance is likely the best course of action, yes?

"And my one last cause; I am busy. I still have to transport this haystack elsewhere, and have at least two assassinations requiring my attention at this moment. By the time I return to the guild, I'm certain there will be another. These are not things I can put off Ezio, and you should know how I feel about leaving things undone. Such is why I won't come with you. Do you finally understand?"

There was a slight, considerate pause.

"…Well, yes… but-"

Here we go, Altair mentally groaned, dragging a hand over his face.

"-the both of us will be there together, so it's not like we're prone to being attacked. In fact, the tavern I have in mind is often visited by allies of ours. It's safe land. Not a bad pick at all. That, and-"

"Ezio."

"-you don't have to consume too much alcohol. I know of a beer they sell that is very finely brewed." The Italian made a minimizing gesture with his fingers to stress his point. "Nothing but a little bit of dizziness will assault your mind, and yet its effects are surprisingly good. No problema. Oh, and that isn't all, there is also… um…"

Ezio hesitated then, glancing vacantly over his friend as he stood, dusted himself off and began to brusquely walk away. "Uhh… Altair? Altair! Where are you going, amico mio, I haven't finished! Come back!"

The Arabian's response was crisp, a lack of hesitance in its offering as its articulator stormed away. "No."

'But, Altair!" His Florentine companion whined, scrambling to his feet and rushing to halt the man in his stride. Circling Altair with an assassin's quickness and barricading his path by dropping on his knees before him, he raised his palms, clasping them together and made a pitiful face that the other man stopped and looked upon with utmost disdain.

Altair cracked his knuckles with a harsh sigh, at this point irritated beyond belief with the pathetic nature his comrade was displaying. He knew Ezio could be rash at times, immature even, but that did not give reason for a full-grown man to fall to his knees in the face of any kind of despair. Friend or not to him, Altair thought of the action as a disgrace to the Creed; a disagreeable form of submissiveness that no assassin should ever resort to.

"…You are like a child, Ezio. Do you know that?"

From such a low angle, Ezio could observe the brazen glint of the assassin's golden eyes. He had the gaze of a hawk; acuminous, bitter and judging.

"But Altair, I am a child; a child at heart," He lifted a hand and held it over his chest, to which the uttered man scowled at his ridiculousness. "Now, will you be kind to this child and listen to me? Just this once and I shall never bother you again. I swear on it…"

Altair couldn't help the sneer that escaped him as he countered such a sudden promise, thrusting an accusatory finger at the other's chest. "I already have high doubt in your oaths, Ezio. Trust me, I can see in a few days time… You beg me for companionship as you intend to raid the closest palace for money, too lazy to earn it," The Arabian waved a hand in the air, an exasperated expression upon his face. "That, or you want my opinion as to which new robes to buy from the tailor's. You are full of requests that I'd rather not answer to, and this is just another one of them…"

The Italian frowned, a slight show of dejection coming through in his expression. "Oh your allegations are not entirely true, caro signore. These particular robes I purchased only last week, I'll have you know. I am not some noble woman who shops for new garbs every two days. Yes, I take pride in my attire, but I do not overdo it. I likely won't buy another set for months, so there is no reason for you to say such things…"

Altair hesitated, considering the counterfeit words he had uttered. "Tayyib, I won't... But then again, what of the raiding?"

"An unnecessary action. It's not as if I've been neglecting my duties," Ezio retrieved his leather pouch from around his belt, allowing Altair a good look at its large bulk before he fastened it to his waist again. "They pay us well, and there never seems to be too small a number of pickpocketers or unlawful husbands to beat up. Dealing with the petty things is enough of a job on its own. Besides, if I didn't feel like I had enough money to spare, I wouldn't agree to treating you tonight, would I?"

Quite satisfied with these justifications, the Syrian man glanced away, relaxing his approach a little.

"Hmm. I guess not."

"Then put these things aside, Altair. Will you instead reconsider my request? I know it's something you do not wish to do, and si, there are things you must attend to, but at least for my sake, will you please-"

"Get off of your knees and I might."

Halting his tongue of its insistence, Ezio instantly obeyed and turned himself onto the soles of his boots, standing straight again so that he were only a centimeter or two taller than Altair. The Italian eagerly motioned for the other man to speak first.

Altair began with a sigh. "…Before I reconsider the matter, there is something I'll address…" He motioned shortly towards the ground, a hand wavering over his companion's dirt-streaked knees. "Do not reduce yourself in the name of such redundant things, Ezio. Friend, foe or citizen, an assassin never stoops to such a height before him. You are more than this, and I like to think so too. Such daftness bothers me, so… I don't hope to see you on your knees again." The Arabian assassin gave the other a stern look, and sheepishly Ezio looked away, but not without returning a nod.

Despite being of the same rank in the Brotherhood, Altair's sense of honor had always been much stronger than his Italian comrade's. As a result, Ezio was often lectured by him, but in all honesty he didn't dislike the reprimanding very much. Ezio believed that this was Altair's unusual display of caring for him… In looking out for the Italian and correcting his flaws, he showed concern for the way the other man carried himself. He may mask it under 'honor' or the laws of the Creed, but the Florentine knew that if it was not he who was making the mistakes, Altair would never even bother to address them. Ezio liked to believe, at the very least, that in earnest warnings and counseling was proof that the Arabian assassin regarded him as a friend.

And well, Ezio admittedly took pride in their friendship… That is, if it was one.

Altair crossed his arms, lifting his chin a little upon noting his message had been heeded. A softer expression now overcoming his angular features, the wiser assassin continued. "I'll admit that your reasoning does seem sincere though… so I'll spare a moment to listen to you. Go ahead; I'll be patient. How else will you convince me of coming to this tavern of yours?"

At this the Italian had perked up. Whoa, Altair was giving him a fair chance? A tangible moment to win over his acceptance…? Ave Maria! This unbidden willingness of the stony-faced Assassin was a thing to celebrate indeed! Whatever it was the Arabian wanted him to do- by Heaven, he'd do it!

Ezio beamed, his enthusiasm showing through quite readily. "Ah, is there something you'll have me do to save you time for tonight? Name it and it will be done, I reassure you... What may it be?" Altair received his fervor with a subtle contentment, showing no signs of a smile but sporting a reassuring lack of bitterness.

"There are a few things you could do…" Turning around, Altair hesitated a moment before approaching the haystack he had been working on earlier, his boots scuffing amongst the dried grass and stones. His comrade followed without question, eyes on the broad shoulders of the man in front of him and occasionally wandering to the wide periwinkle skies above. Today was a good day, he believed.

The Arabian stopped at the uneven mound of fodder, swiftly reaching down and snatching up a second pitch-fork to the one he was using before. He glanced at the lengthy tool then up at Ezio, expertly swinging it around in an impressive motion as he spoke. "Help me get the rest of this hay into the wagon, hitch some horses up to it and have it delivered below the steeple of the nearest church. There," Altair pointed into the distance, where they both could make out the outline of the symbolic building through the dusty haze. "I have an assassination to perform there today, regarding a pastor whom is thought to have associated numerous times with the Templars. Something tells me I'll need some cover in order to escape, but the area about it is barren. So what better way is there than to prepare the field myself? Do you understand what I need done?"

Ezio nodded thoughtfully, a serious look about his face. "Yes, it is a clever idea. Capisco, I'll help you do it. Perhaps we should team up on this assignment then, to reinforce success."

"Perhaps, but all the financial profit is mine, no exceptions. Do not forget your own reasons behind this…"

The Florentine assassin smiled, lifting his arms in understanding. "I know, I know, your companionship tonight is enough of a reward for me. So… would that complete our deal?"

Altair shook his head, a tapered motion. "No, there are two more conditions yet. Upon dealing with the pastor, I am returning to the Brotherhood to attend to one last mission they've alerted me of this week. However, I have one assassination already outstanding… That is the duty I'll explain and devote to you. If we can carry out both tasks quickly enough, it'll leave me with free time; enough to spend the rest of the evening and early night at the tavern. Alright?"

Ezio quickly deemed the request as doable. "Mm, bene… And the last condition?"

"That beer you spoke of… Finely brewed," Altair raised a hand and rubbed his fingers together, mimicking Ezio's action of earlier. This time Ezio surprisingly caught a slight smirk upon the other's face, the white scar marring his lips catching the glint of the afternoon sun. "I'll take some of that, and only that. You better not be lying to me about its lightness, Ezio. I'll make it clear that I do not plan to get drunk."

The Florentine could not help but beam back. "Yes, I hear you. You'll enjoy yourself to no end, I'll ensure it. So that is-"

"That is it. I'll meet you at the tavern at sundown. I want accurate directions, and you must make sure to meet me there on time. Come any later and I'll go home. It wasn't in my best interests to come, but now I see it has worth, so…"

He shared a look with Ezio, his expression satisfied and held even.

"Yes. We do have a deal."

…He said yes.

Altair actually said yes.

"A deal! Mio Dio! Ha detto si! Si!" The Italian laughed excitedly, hardly believing what he just heard. He never would have imagined it, but tonight Altair was going to join him for a drink! His efforts had come to a satisfying end after all!

Spreading his arms wide in joyous exhilaration, Ezio rushed forward to engulf his amico in an appreciative hug, his happiness overriding him. And well, Altair honestly didn't see it coming until he was consumed by two strong arms, felt the pitchfork he was holding clatter to the ground and found his head resting over the Italian man's shoulder, chest pressed firmly against his. By the time he stiffened in repulsion, Ezio caught on to the impending aura of hostility and had quickly drawn away. And the second their gazes met, quite diverse in emotion…

There was silence; a deadly, calculative silence.

"…Don't you ever do that again," the Arabian assassin breathed, brandishing his hidden blade in lingering shock and jabbing it threateningly towards the other man's chin. A fresh scowl had returned to darken his face, like there would usually be in any other situation, but now only worse. "Never again, Ezio, will you take advantage of me in such a vile manner. Do you hear me?"

The amusement and joy had to be suppressed in the Italian's accented voice, although he conformed to the warning without issue. "Aye."

To tell truth, it wasn't like he actually regretted his success in embracing the man… Really, who wouldn't want to cuddle the stony-faced assassin at least once in their life? Besides, he also just discovered that Altair was kind of huggable too, although the Syrian obviously didn't think so…

"Next time you attempt that, I'll drive this blade into your gut, and that is a most sincere warning." Retracting the weapon with a menacing slowness, Altair allowed a poisonous look to linger before bending to lift the farming tool from the ground. He tossed it uncaringly towards the Florentine, turning away with a resultant brashness well-suited to him.

"Now hurry up and get to work, or else I'll change my mind, idiot."

Ezio chuckled, single-handedly catching the heavy pitch-fork and vaulting it around with the lightest grin.

"Do not worry. This idiot will get all of the work done, my friend."