[A/N: Well, Mario had to appear sometime, since he is my second favorite Auditore…]

The Second World

Chapter 2
I

"Porca lurida puttana, fottuta troia," Mario Auditore da Firenze snarled, throwing down his blade in disgust, metal ringing against flagstones with a dramatic air of finality. "I cannot teach someone who cannot learn. He," Mario continued, whirling around to glare at Antonio, "Cannot fight!"

"Well," Antonio interjected soothingly, "Leonardo, perhaps if you could stop apologizing whenever you so much as touch Mario's blade?"

It had been a rather enlightening one hour, if at least in terms of adding additional invective to his personal vocabulary. Leonardo smiled sheepishly as he lowered the rapier in his hand. They stood in the courtyard of the old thieves' guild, with thieves watching from the balconies and sills, Antonio perched on a set of crates at the far end, with Rosa on a set of scaffolding.

Mario was passing by, Antonio had explained, when Leonardo had come to the guild for his evening 'lessons', and since Mario had been the one to teach Ezio about the blade, perhaps it would be fitting that Mario also in turn taught Leonardo. Mario didn't remember their last meeting, recognising him only by repute and very vaguely as 'Ezio's friend': and had been glad – at least one hour ago – to teach.

On the other hand, it appeared as though Ezio had kept their relationship secret from his family, or at least from his uncle. Leonardo wasn't sure whether or not to feel relieved or disappointed. Despite the creed, what they were doing was socially forbidden, after all. And it had not yet been long.

"And he daydreams, you can see his mind visibly wandering, even when pressed by a blade, like a sun-touched cretino," Mario muttered another string of imprecations under his breath, vile enough to rival Rosa in her foulest of moods. "He is frightened of the blade. The best I can do," Mario concluded bitterly, "Is teach him which end is the right end!"

Rosa covered her mouth, though her eyes danced with suppressed mirth. Antonio, however, continued to sit calmly, legs crossed primly on the crate. "Well then, at least teach him how to defend himself. Or perhaps something meant to be non-lethal. I remind you," he said, a little more loudly, when Mario huffed, "That he is a close friend of Ezio's, and his life has already been threatened more than once. We cannot be there all the time for him. And he is the one who decodes all of your precious Codex pages."

"I can read the Codex pages," Mario said sullenly.

"What about the hidden blades and the formulae also encoded?" Antonio smiled benevolently. "Can you build those? Or the other tools that Ezio has used so successfully? Could you have built a flying machine that could strike into the heart of the most fortified palazzo in Venezia? You assassino need Leonardo, even if he was not Ezio's friend."

"I know! I know, cazzo, I know!" Ezio's uncle fixed Leonardo with a baleful stare. Stocky, running to bulk in his age instead of fat, his angular face rife with old, spidery white scars and his thinning hair swept back over a crow's peak, Mario Auditore cut an intimidating figure, even when not red with anger. "Ezio could teach him."

"Ezio is busy," Antonio said smoothly. "Also, he can afford few worries, which is why we decided to persuade Leonardo to take lessons privately. And, you are here for a week in place of Ezio for his contract, because he has been delayed indefinitely in Firenze, are you not?"

"I understand," Mario hunched his shoulders, as though being asked to do himself bodily harm rather than teach a new student for a time. "You want this kept from Ezio, then Ezio will not hear it from me. But my nipote has his ways of finding things out, and you will not keep this from him forever."

"Grazie, Mario," Leonardo said warily, as Mario stooped to pick up his blade.

"If you will not turn your blade on another, then you should at least learn how to defend," Mario said stiffly, "And perhaps, when you are better, I will teach you how to disarm. There are places you can attack another that will not kill him or do lasting harm… you, figlio di puttana, Antonio, I cannot believe what I am doing. I am an assassin! Why am I teaching someone how not to kill?"

"It's a favor to your beloved nipote," Antonio shrugged. "Think of it as a birthday present."

"Why do you know when his birthday is?" Mario asked, suspicious. "Ezio has always told me it was irrelevant, when I asked."

"I've been to your villa in Monteriggioni," Antonio pointed out. "I asked the Lady Claudia."

"What! Claudia has never told me anything about Ezio. Claudia, bless her father's soul, does not speak to her uncle." The old assassin looked aggrieved. "And I have not been anything but another father to her! Why would she talk to a common thief like you? Did you charm her with your silver tongue? She is a sweet and innocent child! How dare you, bastardo?"

Antonio coughed, as if to hide a burp of laughter. "That may be, perhaps she was simply in a good mood when I spoke to her. So, if you can keep your temper and teach Leonardo, I will tell you later, in confidence."

"Vaffanculo! You are a scheming snake," Mario seemed to make as if to throw down his blade again, but merely glared at the hilt in indignation. "Bene, bene, va bene! I will teach Leonardo. And then you will tell me about this conversation with Claudia. And then you will swear to me never to go near my niece again, or I will kill you."

Rosa aimed a swift, vicious kick at Antonio's shoulder that made the thief flinch. "Well done, great leader Antonio. Now we have two assassins after our hides."

II

Mario was a difficult taskmaster, but an efficient one, accepting without question or resentment the fact that Leonardo could not always be there for lessons and driving him hard when he was. Leonardo could see why Ezio always referred to his uncle with a mixture of amusement, exasperation and deep affection.

After the first two sessions, spent mostly vilifying Leonardo's ancestry, his ability, his intelligence and, when Mario was out of relevant phrases, the world and Antonio in general, Mario seemed to warm to him a little. Perhaps it was because the old assassin was curious about his nephew's life, outside of the villa; Antonio had mentioned that save where there was pressing business, the assassini seemed to be engaged in their own businesses, with Ezio taking up the quiet contracts and Mario leading mercenary gangs.

After the third session, Antonio deemed his and Rosa's presences at the training sessions unnecessary, and now only a couple of thieves stayed at the courtyard to observe them.

"Better," Mario said gruffly, when Leonardo managed to block a flurry of stabs with only a nick to his shoulder. "At least the thieves have thought to have you exercise. In a month's time you may even be just below average."

"Grazie, Mario," Leonardo said dryly.

On one hand, he was disappointed that Ezio had been detained in Firenze; on the other hand, Leonardo's daily regimen, as dictated by Rosa, was beginning, slowly, to pay off. He still could not climb, but he could now manage a few basic coin tricks, training his dexterity, and he could almost traverse a quarter of the tripboards in the thieves' guildroom without Rosa hearing him. Also, being fitter felt… better. He slept better, and even his art was slowly improving.

He would have to investigate this further at a later date. Perhaps diet also had a cause. Perhaps there was even some relation to immunity to sickness-

"Leonardo! Cazzo, vaffanculo, no matter what I teach you, in battle you will simply daydream and someone will kill you and be done with it." Mario snapped his fingers together sharply before his nose, startling Leonardo out of his reverie. "Lift your blade! We start again, like I told you! The enemy feints, here, like this… you dodge, no, no, more effort! You dodge, then the enemy strikes, and you counter-"

"Scusi-"

"Stop apologizing! Porca fottuta, you are impossible." Mario slapped his weak block aside, tapping the flat of his blade sharply on Leonardo's shoulder. "Again! Your blade, you are holding it wrongly… fine. Sufficient. Start. How did you even meet Ezio anyway?"

"Lady Maria commissioned… scusi… some pieces from me. Ezio picked them up with her. Later, he asked me… scusi! To fix the hidden blade. Based on the schematic in a scroll that he found along with the broken weapon. While he slept, I analysed the schematic and repaired the blade on the spot. After that, I built the second one with the other plans, later."

"You are a genius," Mario said, with grudging admiration. "Giovanni and I have sought an engineer to construct the blade for decades, and you recreate it in the space of an afternoon. We had only the one blade, you see, and despite everything I said, Giovanni had always felt guilty that he had been the one to inherit it from our father."

"It is actually quite a simplistic, yet highly remarkable spring pressure mechanism," Leonardo winced as the flat of Mario's blade snaked past his juvenile guard and slapped his ribs. "Oh, scusi."

"Why are you apologizing for that?"

"Ah… you just seemed disappointed…" Leonardo raised his blade hurriedly as Mario snorted. "Again? So… I dodge, and then, oh… and that happens… but in any case, if you want a blade of your own, I will be… scusi, happy to build you one."

"I was never one for the silent kill," Mario said dismissively. "If you give me one, more than likely someday I will forget that it is on my wrist and cut off my own finger or slit my own wrist. Cunn'e mamma tua, dodge, man, dodge!"

"So… ah, that was a good one, when is Ezio's birthday?"

Mario frowned at him for a moment, then he snorted. "I do not know if what Antonio said was correct. I will check with Claudia."

"I thought she did not speak to you?"

"Well, perhaps she now does," Mario's frown had turned into a scowl, and the next flurry had enough force to numb his wrists.

"I was merely suggesting… that I could ask Ezio… or Claudia… ah, scusi," Leonardo found himself being pushed back towards the wall, concentrating the best he could with parries, managing even a dodge, then something metallic glanced off the flagstones by Mario's boot. A throwing knife, Leonardo realized, blinking dumbly, then letting out a yelp of surprise as Mario instantly thrust Leonardo behind him protectively, turning to face their attacker.

"I thought it was you, uncle. Buona sera," Ezio leapt nimbly down from rooftop to sill to the ground in one fluid movement. His hood shadowed his eyes for a moment, making his smile seem sinister in the shadows from the flickering torches set against the walls, and then Ezio pushed back the hood, his expression clearly curious.

"Leonardo? What are you doing here?"

"Ah… I…"

"You cause great upheavals in Venezia and give little thought to the safety of your friends," Mario interrupted gruffly. "I spoke with Antonio and we agreed that your friend Leonardo should at least learn how to defend himself. Seeing as he is useful to you."

Leonardo felt an instant gratitude to the old assassin. Even if Mario hadn't known that he had other motives, this made as good an explanation as any. "I, ah, am not a good student."

"I offered to teach you," Ezio observed, his voice pointedly neutral, as Leonardo awkwardly sheathed the borrowed rapier and handed it to one of the thieves lingering at the scaffolding. Grimacing, Leonardo groped for a reply. Ezio had indeed offered, but Leonardo had pled schedule, again and again, until the matter had simply been dropped. Then, it had not seemed important.

"You do not have time, nipote. Better to let an old assassin do what he can," Mario strode forward and clapped Ezio on the shoulder. "Antonio and Rosa are more persuasive than you, perhaps."

"No doubt." Ezio's tone seemed mildly placated, but the sharp look he shot Leonardo over his uncle's shoulder made the painter slump. "I will escort Leonardo home, uncle, and speak to you further on the morrow."

"You are back in Venezia faster than we expected."

"The mission did not take as long as Lorenzo predicted," Ezio shrugged, clearly impatient to be away. Sensing this, Mario nodded, stepping out of the way.

"Later then, nipote."

"Come, Leonardo." Ezio walked quickly away from the enclave, his hood drawn back down over his eyes. He held his left arm a little stiffly, Leonardo observed, as they stepped out into the slow human traffic of night in Venezia.

"You are injured?"

"It is a trifle." Ezio said, irritable. "You could have asked me to teach you. I could have made time to teach. Did my uncle hurt you? Sometimes he is a difficult teacher."

"No, I am unhurt. He is a good teacher. I am just a poor student."

"Hah! He is an old, ill-tempered lion. You were not as bad as you believe. I was worse when I started, all anger, no skill, no patience. At least you try to listen." Ezio paused, then he turned his head, just enough for Leonardo to observe an impish grin against the edge of his hood. "Why do you keep apologizing? Is it a tactic? I could see my uncle becoming increasingly angry. It looked as though he might even do you harm, near the end, so I had to make my presence known."

"It is just… the words just leave me without thought," Leonardo looked down at his boots, embarrassed. "I am a poor student."

Ezio chuckled warmly, and Leonardo allowed himself to relax. Sometimes he could not entirely predict the course of Ezio's own volcanic tempers: not that Ezio had ever raised a hand against him, but Leonardo did not like conflict, let alone with Ezio, in any form.

"Do not learn from Mario any longer. Learn from me. I will teach you. I will spend more time in Venezia."

"Lorenzo-"

"Lorenzo has other assassins." Ezio waited as they turned a corner, into a quieter street off the main thoroughfare, checking quickly around them for guards, then he reached for Leonardo, squeezing his fingers gently with his bared hand, frowning and rubbing his fingers carefully over the pads of his thumb and forefinger, turning the palm up into the dim candlelight from a lamp on a terrace. "Blisters. How long have you been learning the blade?"

"Since Mario arrived in Venezia." The blisters were not entirely from the training sessions, but Leonardo kept his counsel. "Rosa has a salve."

Ezio exhaled loudly. "Mi disipace, Leonardo. The things I have brought upon you."

"A few blisters, some bruises? If I could stay by your side in love, Ezio, this is the least that I am willing to endure," Leonardo said earnestly, stroking the ridges of Ezio's knuckles with his abused thumb, hoping to alleviate his lover's clear sense of guilt.

Ezio blinked at him, and in the lamplight, Leonardo could see the assassin's cheeks pink gently; then he leaned in, his lips brushing Leonardo's ear, the purr tickling his cheek and quickening the beat of his heart. "Let us walk faster. Now I truly need to kiss you."

III

"There, you see? Nothing to worry about," Antonio said pleasantly, when Ezio was called away again, this time also with Mario, on urgent business in Firenze. "Ezio suspected nothing."

"But it was close," Rosa disagreed sharply. "If Mario had not said what he had, we would all have been found out, and then murdered in our sleep."

"Are you still concerned about that?" Antonio shook his head slowly. "It was all planned carefully, Rosa. Mario said exactly what he was meant to say, and all without coaching."

The thieves were lounging in chairs beside Leonardo's workdesk as he painted, alternatively squabbling between themselves or attempting to squabble with Leonardo. It had been a pleasant handful of days in Ezio's company, however, and Leonardo was in a good enough mood to tolerate his disruptive friends.

"So Ezio is going to teach you? That solves all of our problems," Rosa leant her elbows carefully on the desk, so as not to touch any paint or canvas.

"He is trying to teach me. It is not working," Leonardo said mildly.

"Why?"

"We, ah, we seem to be easily distracted." Leonardo fought his blush.

Ezio had gotten as far as attempting to teach him a counter attack before growing frustrated, like his uncle; save that unlike Mario, Ezio's response to becoming exasperated with Leonardo was to corner him against a wall and kiss him breathless. It did not make for much useful or lengthy teaching.

"I knew it." Rosa pushed her face into her palms. "You are hell bent on murdering your friends. Why not just accept that you are bad at thievery and bad at being an assassino and return to making beautiful art?"

"I am bad at thievery and being an assassin. The point was not to get better but to understand." Leonardo delicately painted the arch of an eyebrow, his eyes fixed on his work. "I think I am learning."

"He is walking a mile in Ezio's shoes, Rosa."

"I do not see what the shoes have to do with it," Rosa retorted at Antonio. "My woman's intuition tells me that it is simply because Leonardo is not having sex."

Leonardo was thankful that at that point, he had been in the process of washing out his paintbrush rather than working on the canvas. "Rosa."

"Whatever the underlying reasoning-"

"Antonio!"

"-I think it is commendable to want to understand your lover," Antonio continued blandly. "And to try to actively improve the relationship. Usually in logico, however. But if friend Leonardo believes that he is learning something useful to his ends, then as friends we should continue to help him."

There was a sharp staccato rap on the windows, above, and the thieves froze warily. Antonio glanced at Rosa, and then he relaxed, even as Rosa edged to the stairway and began to creep upwards, a hand going to the hilt of the dagger hidden in her boot.

Leonardo frowned, hesitating, but continued to loudly wash out his brush at Antonio's urgent gesture, even as Rosa disappeared out of sight. There was an exclamation of surprise, then Rosa's irritated snort. "Dio mio, Troy, could you not have announced your presence? Figlio de puttana, if your back was turned I would have killed you!"

"Never mind that. Carlo intercepted this package, Rosa, at the Piazza, when he was cutting purses." Troy's voice seemed to carry a note of urgency. "I took a look inside it. See the seal! It is-"

"Give me that." A flutter of paper, then a hiss of shocked anger, and Rosa began to swear, in a loud, harsh string of vituperate invective that made even Antonio blink hastily. Frowning, Antonio rose to his feet, circling up the stairwell, Leonardo at his heels.

"Rosa? What is the matter?"

"This!" Rosa thrust a set of scrolls at Antonio, red with fury. "It has not yet been sealed. Porca troia! It is a draft. Troy, you and Carlo, and any other free at this time, you must tail the bastardo who had this. Search the Piazza. Put a lookout on the source."

"We are searching. We do not believe the courier will be missed, not yet. And he has not noticed the loss of his scroll. Marco is following him at a distance, to see where he intends to be."

Antonio unrolled the scroll, and behind his shoulder, with a sinking heart, Leonardo recognized the legal writ, with its sprawling, formal script in an anonymous statement of claim, of sodomy, and worse, his name as the accused.

"Again," he whispered, color draining from his cheeks.

[tbc – haha, being a lawyer, I have always wanted to write a bit on the above sort of theme. Time to introduce OCs! Or mangled historical figures. Not that I've managed to locate any names for 15th century legal practitioners.]