The paper was worn, he had read it so many times. His thumb passed over Elise's name, and he wished it were her cheek. He missed her, missed her smiles, her red hair. He had not seen her in so long that his heart ached whenever he thought of her.

Arno sighed, leaning his head back on the pillowed chair, the letter hanging precariously from loose fingers. It was late, the Cafe building was silent with everyone either asleep or at home.

He has been with the brotherhood for a few months now. He had spent much of that time with Lucien, Christophe and Philippe, doing group missions with them as he gathered information about Monsieur De La Serre's murderers. Despite spending so much time with them, he still knew very little about their history. He knew a lot about their personalities, their quirks, their fighting styles and pet peeves; He even knew that Christophe wore nothing under his breeches, a fact that Arno absolutely did not need to know and fervently wished he could unlearn.

"Can't sleep?"

Arno closed his eyes and sighed again but otherwise did not move.

"No."

Arno could hear Lucien's footsteps now, quiet and careful but confident. He stopped two steps away from Arno, the man's tall shadow blocking some of the candlelight.

"What's all this?"

Arno cracked his eyes open to peer at Lucien, who was leaning over the box of letters.

His hood was down, a rare sight that Arno had only seen a handful of times. Lucien was undoubtedly a handsome man. His hair was dark and kept short, mussed from being under his hood all day; His eyes were a steel grey, clever and observant; His strong jaw sported the beginnings of a beard and his nose was regal despite the slight bump of a once broken nose. Arno often puzzled over why Lucien insisted on wearing that blasted hood near the hideout when a face like that would surely have garnered Lucien romantic attention from the ladies that spent their time near the Cafe.

Arno did not stop him when he reached into the box to pull out a letter. He trusted Lucien with this even as he knew he would probably be teased about it. Lucien straightened but did not open the letter. He glanced at Arno first, silently asking permission, and when Arno said nothing, proceeded to read the letter.

Lucien was infinitely careful with the paper as he unfolded the letter, a gesture that Arno appreciated even as he found it ironic that the other assassin was more careful with it than even he was.

Everything was silent as Lucien read. As his eyes scanned lower on the page, one of Lucien's eyebrows twitched upwards before dropping along with it's twin in a frown. When he finished the second letter, he let out a pensive hum.

"What is it?" Arno asked, feeling uneasy.

"...Nothing." The long pause said otherwise.

Arno pushed himself to his feet, his unease turning into defensiveness, "No, it's not nothing. I know that look, Lucien. If you have something to say, then say it."

There was a tense moment where they stood facing each other, trying to stare each other down. Although, in Arno's case, it was more like glaring than staring. Eventually, Lucien's shoulders slumped in defeat.

He let out an explosive sigh, as if he had been holding his breath, "It's really not that important, Arno."

"I'd like to hear it, all the same."

Lucien looked down at the papers in his hand thoughtfully, his frown deepening, "It's just...I wonder about her sincerity..."

Arno scowled, "What?"

"Look," Lucien began, stepping closer to Arno with his free hand raised slightly in a placating gesture, "I know you like her; And I don't blame you, she's a pretty girl and I'm sure a man like her father raised her to be a good person. From what I've read, she seems fond of you too. What I don't understand is; if she loved you as much as you seem to love her, why did she do nothing when you were imprisoned?"

The anger that had begun to brew in Arno's chest faltered, momentarily replaced with doubt. If he was honest with himself, there were times when that voice at the back of his head asked the same thing. It was something he tried very hard not to think about because Elise was the girl he had fallen in love with and the only real friend he ever had.

The entire time he was in the Bastille, all he cared about, all he thought about, was Elise. He had been concerned for her safety, worried about how well she was dealing with her father's death without him. He had assumed she did not know about his imprisonment, so when he had found her after his escape, he had been shocked that she had already known and had made no attempts to contact him at all.

And then she had gently rejected his apologies and excuses, broke his heart and all but disowned him.

When he was reborn into the Brotherhood, Arno tried to put his past behind him. After all, he believed Monsieur De La Serre's death truly was his fault and he did not begrudge Elise her anger.

He knew Elise had been in trouble, she had few friends in the order after her father's death and fewer still that she actually trusted. He understood that and he knew it was selfish to want more from her.

And yet it hurt. He would have done anything for her, probably still would, no matter the cost to himself. Why hadn't she done the same?

Lucien must have noticed his uncertainty, for his face softened in sympathy. He drew closer to Arno and his hand found his arm, squeezing it comfortingly.

His other hand raised the letters between them for Arno to take and Arno's hand came up reluctantly to accept them. He stared down at the familiar elegant script scrawled across the page in black ink blankly for a few long moments. When he looked up, he was slightly startled to note that Lucien had not moved away. He stood close enough that Arno could feel his body warmth. Normally, Arno would find the proximity unnerving if it were anyone other than Elise - But Lucien was different.

"I know you love her, Arno," Lucien's voice was pitched low, quiet and gentle in the silence of the room, "I know you feel guilty - " He tilted his head to try and catch Arno's gaze as he looked away, "emwrongfully,/em i think - and I understand why you want to help her; But I care about you and I don't wish to see you throwing your life away for someone who would not risk their own life for yours."

Arno wanted to protest, wanted to yell at Lucien for implying that Elise did not care for him, an old reflex to protect his oldest friend.

But the words would not come.

He could not say that he knew Elise at all anymore. There was so much that she kept from him, so much of herself had been hidden from him that he wondered now if he ever knew her at all.

Arno felt Lucien's hand on his jaw, his fingers curling around his nape to pull him closer for their foreheads to touch. Arno let him, relishing the feeling of intimacy even as he questioned why he was so comfortable with it.

"I might be completely wrong about her," Lucien continued, his eyes locked with Arno's and his warm breath fanning over Arno's skin as he spoke, "So don't feel bad about it. I just want you to be careful, especially when it involves Assassins and Templars. D'accord?"

Arno nodded slightly, "D'accord."

"Good." Lucien said firmly before pulling away. He smiled, patted Arno on the shoulder and turned to walk out the door.

"Lucien." Arno called.

Lucien halted, turning to look back at Arno, his eyebrow raised in question.

"Would you give your life for mine?" He asked quietly. He tried to make it sound like he was teasing, but he could not mask his vulnerability.

Lucien did not even pause to think about it.

"In a heartbeat." He replied solemnly.

Then he walked out, throwing a 'Bonne Nuit' over his shoulder.

Arno stood staring at his empty doorway for a long time, the letter in his hand forgotten, and wondered why his heart was beating so fast.

A/N: I hope you liked the last two chapters!

kacpolina1 left a review and asked for Christophe/Philippe. I wouldn't mind writing it but I want to know if anyone else would like that as well so please leave a review to let me know what you think of that pairing and the story.

Thanks for reading!