Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.
A/N: So, technically it's Sunday, yeah? Even if I technically still haven't gone to bed… Well, today is cause for celebration. I was at the Renaissance Faire in Bristol today for the first time ever and it was epic. Basically. And! Because of my extensive research of Italian Renaissance clothing and culture, I could recognize some of the costumes and stuff. Totally recommend it. The joust was definitely the best part… I kinda want to work a joust into the story, even if Ezio never stumbled across any… See, jousting was extremely popular during the Renaissance, so it just might happen.
I'm glad everyone enjoyed the new chapter length; it will probably be the average one – the goal being over 4,000 words per chapter.
As I was writing this, I was definitely listening to Emilie Autumn's Willow. Do check out her music, she's flippin' amazing. Yes, I'm a loyal Plague Rat.
Random side-note: Leonardo's full name is Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci. I was not aware of this when I named the assistant. Which I find to be funny. Enjoy!
A Bunch of Hot Air
By: Ginny
Begin Part II
Ezio came back from training early. The new techniques were very interesting, involving ledge, jumping, and hidden assassination. These would be useful, he decided, as he continued on back to Leonardo's workshop. He could always count on his old friend and as he rounded a corner he wondered what exactly he was making at this very moment and just how useful it would be on future assassinations.
Before opening the door, he paused. Hm, there was something he was forgetting… Or- or, someone… Oh! Yes! Ezio opened the door and found Leonardo bent over his project, still not finished yet. "Leonardo," he began, "What ever happened to that one girl, uh, Margherita?"
Leonardo didn't even glance up from his work, "What do you mean, "What happened"? She's my assistant."
Ezio blinked, "You mean she's still here?"
The other man nodded, still engrossed in the bracer and blade, "Yes, she should be somewhere upstairs, I think." He then dissolved into muttering, and Ezio didn't bother to listen, knowing that Leonardo had returned his full attention back to the bracer. That man was too dedicated to his work sometimes. Instead, Ezio took a seat and silently lost himself in his musings.
Once it had been finished and handed to Ezio, the younger man asked, "Has she been a good assistant? Helpful?"
Leonardo stood and fetched the two of them something to drink. "Oh yes, I'm constantly amazed by how much she knows! Theories I've never seen before… It's quite amazing. And her latest project is absolutely enthralling." He poured some spiced wine into the little ceramic cups, and Ezio momentarily hesitated. He had seen these same cups used to hold murky liquid as Leonardo had been painting.
Ezio sipped cautiously, "And what is this latest project?"
"A machine that can float through the sky using fire to heat the air inside of a balloon" he said. "It's quite remarkable, actually," Ezio nodded, yes, that did sound interesting. Suddenly Leonardo added, "Sometimes it's a wonder she's getting any work done at all."
"Hm?" Ezio attempted some attempt at polite conversation.
"Well, when I don't need her, she's usually off with some boy or another. They follow her around like puppies. Not that she does much to dissuade them. Sometimes I worry about her."
Ezio furrowed his brows, confused. He attempted to form a mental picture of the girl, and found it rather unsatisfactory. Though the blonde hair was treasured as a rarity, her face was splotched with freckles and acne and the last time he had seen her, dark circles had deepened the crevices under her eyes. Besides that, ill-fitting dresses had always either hidden her shape or deformed it. The only thing about her he could recall enjoying was her breasts when she had been wearing that dress that had exposed an ample amount of cleavage.
But he knew first-hand that sometimes attractiveness could be inspired from personality. Though, quite frankly, one memory stood out in his mind- the one in which she had fallen into hysterics and tried to escape him, almost giving away their hiding spot. And then she had been nearly completely unable to look him directly in the eyes. This was the girl who had boys trailing after her?
Ezio voiced his musing, "Hm, I don't remember her ever being very pretty and she was terribly meek and skittish. Are you certain she is just not simply more… giving then other girls?"
Leonardo gave a small chuckle, then suddenly his face dissolved from amused to shocked, and he stumbled into a standing position, banging his knee against the table as he rose, "Margherita-!"
Ezio turned to follow his gaze- and blinked. The young lady stood at the top of the staircase watching the two men. Those two years had been kind to her. Her blonde hair had grown out into a more manageable length that was pulled back into a braid that went from her crown then coiled at the nape of her neck. She was finally wearing a dress that fit her curvy body, even if the color was plain beige and the neckline covered any semblance of cleavage. Age had withered her teenage acne and prolonged exposure to the sun had calmed the splotches of freckles into speckles along her cheeks that Ezio could really only describe as cute.
As she descended the stairs and came closer to the flickering candle, the trained assassin was able to notice the finder details of her face- more specifically the light kohl smeared along her upper lash line and a moist paste spread onto her lips, artificially plumping them.
Suddenly his eyes strayed even farther down, landing on her right hand. A glove that had had the fingers cut off was covering her hand. Ezio absently wondered at the oddity of such an accessory, but decided it didn't matter.
Ezio froze upon realizing that she must have heard everything he had said, or at the very least the last part in which he basically assumed she was a slut. While her Italian had been nonexistent when he had known her, surely she had improved her Italian in the two years he had been gone.
Once Margherita reached the last step she smiled at Ezio, and then turned to speak to Leonardo in English. When the artist translated her words, "Hello Ezio, I am very glad to see you. How have you been?" Ezio paused momentarily. That came as a shock, the fact that she had focused on her science and sexuality more than her communication skills.
"I am good, and Leonardo tells me you have been working very hard," Ezio let Leonardo translate.
As she listened to the inventor she nodded and smiled again before turning back to Leonardo and speaking in rapid English. Once her sentence was finished she grabbed a satchel on the table nearest her. Leonardo told Ezio, "She says she would love to stay but must go to the market to pick up supplies." She waved and then left.
Ezio whistled lowly once the door closed and crossed his arms, watching the door appreciatively, "I take it back. I would happily follow her around with my tail wagging."
He didn't notice as Leonardo shared a small smile with himself and shook his head.
Ezio set out to look for Le Volpe, glancing at his newest blade. It would take some getting used to this new weapon. But it would be quite effective, and that was all that mattered. Walking into the crowded marketplace, he blended into a group to avoid the guards. He had barely turned a corner when a stock of blonde hair caught his attention. Oh, yes, she had said she was going to the market.
He quickly noted that she was attempting to carry the overstuffed satchel and two long strips of plywood. It seemed she was struggling, so Ezio decided to assist her. Perhaps after he assisted her back to the workshop he would be able to corner her up against the wall and become reacquainted with her. He smirked like a predator and was but twenty feet from her when another man stepped up to grab the goods from her hands.
Turning to hide his face and mild annoyance at not reaching her fast enough to be the one to charm her, he was just close enough to hear them speaking… speaking in perfect Italian.
"Ah! Margherita, you seem as though you require assistance," the young man commented, stooping lowly. He was terribly tall and wide across the shoulders to the point that even the average-height Margherita had to look far up to him.
A small… giggle came from her mouth, "That depends, are you offering, Bartolo?"
"Of course, beautiful, you should not overwork yourself," Bartolo said as he took the plywood and swung the satchel over his shoulder. The two began walking in the general direction of the workshop. Curious, Ezio followed behind at an inconspicuous distance.
She had misled him, Ezio realized quickly. She had learned Italian within the two years he had been away, but why wouldn't she have used it when he had returned, why would she- oh, Ezio realized. If she could speak it, that must mean she was able to understand what he had said about her lack of beauty and her supposed promiscuity.
"Now, what are you expecting?" Margherita asked.
"Expecting?" the boy feigned ignorance.
"Oh, well, you're being so kind, surely you expect a reward, am I correct?"
Bartolo grinned down at the girl, "Ah, from such a pretty girl, how could I take advantage of her? No, no, no, your mere presence is enough."
Ezio almost felt like puking. Yes, he had used a similar line before, with many, many girls, but that didn't mean he enjoyed another man attempting to charm this girl – the same he intended to make his next conquest. It was almost pathetic. They reached the workshop and despite the satchel and plywood, Bartolo opened the door for her and the two walked in, disappearing from Ezio's sight.
Hm, how interesting.
After having given up locating Le Volpe, Ezio made his way back to Leonardo's workshop. The man was somewhere in the Firenze, that much he knew, and he figured he would be able to begin looking again the next day. For now, he would ask Leonardo whether he could stay with him in the meantime.
When he knocked, he had been expecting his friend to answer the door, but instead Margherita did. Inwardly, he grinned like a wolf. Two could play the ignorance game and this promised to be fun.
"Er, Leonardo-?" He watched as she feigned confusion at just that simple phrase.
"No here," she managed to get out in broken Italian after taking a moment to construct the sentence.
When she moved to let him in, he walked through the door and said, "I apologize but I must speak to him."
Margherita furrowed her brows, still pretending to be ignorant of what he was saying. But he knew perfectly well that she understood him. So he continued to play along, "I need talk to Leonardo. Me talk Leonardo."
She nodded slowly and crossed the room, gesturing to a chair for him to sit in as she made her way to a table covered with papers. As Ezio followed her, he smiled and inclined his head in thanks as he passed her. Margherita bent over the table, just as he had seen Leonardo do before, her entire focus on the papers in front of her. Grabbing a writing utensil, she began scribbling on one of the sheets before pausing to glance up at the ceiling, then returning back to the problem at hand. Only the scribble of the quill on parchment could be heard.
Ezio sat and crossed his arms, mumbling to himself under his breath, "Hm, I wonder if Leonardo has had her yet…"
The girl paused her work for a moment and stiffened. He knew he had hit a nerve. Smirking, he continued, "No, no, no, she's far too dumb for him. I can't picture him with anyone who isn't as brilliant as him. He probably wants a woman who can keep up with him, a woman who-"
"Actually, he would not want a woman at all," she snapped in perfect Italian, not even looking up from her work. Before Ezio could even respond to that- he would not want a woman at all… Margherita continued, "And don't you dare insult my intelligence. I bet you discontinued schooling long ago."
Ezio grinned and leaned back in his chair, "Ah, now she speaks."
Finally, she glanced up at his face and a small scowl pulled at her mouth. Apparently she didn't appreciate the joke, "You figured it out. How?"
"The marketplace. You really should be more observant. Someone will take advantage of your obliviousness." Margherita huffed and turned back to her work, while Ezio continued, "I should have expected that you had learned at least some Italian after being here for two years."
"And you were dumb enough to be mislead despite your… expectation," she snarked.
Ezio stood and walked around the table to stand behind her, looking over her shoulder. A picture was scribbled onto a piece of parchment with words and arrows all around it. Apparently she hadn't learned how to write Italian yet, or she was simply more comfortable writing in English because he couldn't understand any her notes that were crammed into the margins around the picture. "Your floating machine?" he asked.
"It is called a hot air balloon."
He leaned even closer and he noted that he could feel the heat of her body. Warmth rolled off her back and caressed his armored chest. "Oh, my mistake," he paused and looked at her face. From this angle he could just see her jaw and chin. He commented, "You have changed."
Lifting her quill, she turned to meet his eyes. They were very close, their breath intermingling yet she made no move to pull back. Instead she grinned softly, "I am aware. According to you I have increased from not very pretty to one who is rather slutty."
He winced, "Yes, yes, I am sorry about that."
Her lips pulled back in an almost feral grin, "All is forgiven."
"Hm…" he purred and tilted his head at the best angle needed to press his lips to hers. The milliseconds ticked by as he leaned ever closer, and while she didn't pull away she also made no move to get closer. Instead, she glanced at his lips as they came closer.
Suddenly, the door burst open, "Margherita! I say we start on that dissection of the liver before nightfall, what do you – oh!"
Ezio didn't make a move to pull back, but a sense of déjà-vu washed over him as Margherita ducked away and approached Leonardo, "Yes, that sounds fine. I'll go get your tools." And with that, she disappeared into another room.
Ezio watched as Margherita left the room, and then turned back to Leonardo with a look of annoyance. What was it with people interrupting him and that girl before anything could happen? He didn't think he'd ever get to kiss her. "You have very bad timing, my friend…" Ezio drawled, crossing his arms.
Leonardo had also followed her departure with his eyes and now glanced back at the young man. His face seemed to fall, and he looked uneasy, "Ezio, may I make a request of you?"
"Sure," he shrugged.
"Please don't try to tumble with Margherita."
Ezio blinked, paused, and finally stuttered, "W-what?"
The inventor groaned, at a loss for words, "You see, she – she, the way she acts with men. These past two years I have seen men come and go and she flirts and she teases, but beyond that – nothing. She has deep relationships with other women – she can talk to them, and smile with them, and be unguarded around members of her own sex, but beyond her promiscuous teasing she doesn't connect with men. And even though she can touch them – and believe me, I've seen her touch men in a wide variety of places… I really should learn to knock… anyway, despite the fact that she touches them, she refuses to let them touch her. I don't think she's actually fornicated since she's been my assistant.
"When I've had the chance to speak with some of the young men, I've noticed that they know virtually nothing about her! It's like she's totally guarded, like she doesn't let anyone in. I think… I have a theory… that she has been abused in some way. It's the only reason I can think of for this kind of behavior."
Ezio nodded, "Yes, my friend, she was assaulted when my father and brothers were imprisoned." He recalled, quite vividly, the time she had fallen into hysterics in the haystack. Of course she wouldn't have magically healed since then.
Leonardo stopped pacing, and stared at Ezio, letting the information absorb, "Yes, yes, that explains it… She sees her teasing as a form of control… probably an attempt to reclaim the control she lost when she was raped…" The inventor fell into his mental musing.
After a moment Ezio made a noise in the back of his throat to refocus Leonardo's attention. "Oh, yes!" Leonardo began again, "See, she puts these men at an arm's length. I'm the only man she trusts, I think… Probably because I've never expected anything from her besides her role as a student and assistant. And I think that if you try to seduce her, if you either try to take away her control by advancing on her or if you let her control you by falling for her teases, you will break her trust… I think the one thing she needs is a strong man in her life that she can count on, who doesn't want her for a tumble or an assistant."
Ezio frowned a bit, "You ask a lot of me, my friend. She has matured these past two years. I will have much trouble saying no."
"But please do so, anyway, for her sake. Show her that there are men she can trust," Leonardo pleaded.
"Fine, fine, I will not tumble with her-"
"-Or try to tumble with her…"
Ezio groaned, "I cannot promise I will always be on my best behavior. I cannot always control my charm."
"But I have your word you will know the limits?"
"Yes, yes, I will try to be a good little boy."
Leonardo sighed and barely got out, "That's all I'm asking for," just as Margherita walked back into the room, tool pouch in hand.
The residual blood left on the metal tools was removed cautiously. Margherita was unable to move her right hand very well and was forced to rely primarily on her left hand. As she swiped at the blood, she wondered whether she would have actually let him kiss her had they not been interrupted. She hoped she wouldn't have. Yes, she would have kissed him, but letting him kiss her was an entirely different story.
And quite frankly, she'd done enough kissing earlier that day with Bartolo after he had kindly escorted her home and her lips were tired. Hm, but he was very experienced, if she recalled correctly- she might have ended up enjoying it had she let him. As she put the tools back in the cabinet she exited the room where all the corpses were piled and pulled the scarf from her mouth. While this time period wasn't known for their hygiene, she still insisted on protecting herself from disease… or at the very least, the smell.
Margherita quickly noticed that the table had been set by Leonardo's newest student, a young man by the name of Piero. He was a short little man who nearly licked the ground Leonardo walked on. After Margherita had been promoted from student to assistant, the young man had come a-knocking. He was mostly in charge of the cooking and painting, while Margherita handled the cleaning and more scientific aspects of Leonardo's life.
Food had been prepared and sat steaming, but Ezio and Leonardo sat, apparently waiting for her. She bounded up the stairs to get cleaned up, telling them to start without her. Even after she returned, they had still left the food untouched and she sighed, sitting down, "You needn't have waited for me."
Both gave transparent excuses but she knew that she should have expected this from them- Leonardo was far too respectful of her to not wait and Ezio was far too cunning to not use the disguise of a gentleman to get into her pants. They had been discussing mundane topics, court gossip, patrons and Leonardo's latest painting, when she had sat down, but as they filled their plates, Ezio glanced around the table and commented, "Hey, Leonardo, your student seems to have forgotten the meat."
Leonardo chuckled and Margherita barely stifled a giggle. He explained, "No, this is not a mistake. Margherita and I don't eat meat."
Ezio was obviously confused by the prospect, "What?" he asked.
"We are vegetarians," Margherita clarified. Good lord, had Margherita loved her Big Mac and Leonardo certainly had the funds to afford meat at dinner for her, but from the first day she'd entered the workshop she had been curious about life without meat and she hadn't wanted to burden her mentor, so she had thus abstained from it. And there were benefits – for one, she felt healthier, and for another, she had lost most of the extra weight she had had around her midsection, a flaw that had always caused her much insecurity.
The assassin blinked, "That sounds ridiculous."
"Yes," she began, scowling at him, "I suppose you wouldn't understand."
"And what does that mean?"
She licked her lips, carefully and purposefully, under the guise of catching any stray food, "Because you view everything as a piece of meat that you want nothing more than to savor."
The way his eyes followed her tongue did not escape her notice. Her lips curving into a smirk only managed to distract him and he responded with a grin, "I have found that some meat should be savored… it is the only way to eat it."
Leonardo gave a strangled cough and Margherita didn't miss the pointed look he shot Ezio. Hm, he'd never minded when she flirted with her other toys. Did Ezio count as a toy? No, perhaps not yet. The young genius turned the conversation back to the mundane, safe subjects as Margherita continued her musing. She really shouldn't have risen to the bait – but the assassin was just so fun to tease.
He'll certainly be a challenge, she mused. But isn't that the point?
"I was unable to find Le Volpe today. I will begin my search again tomorrow but for now I have no where to go," Ezio's words broke her from her thoughts.
"Oh, don't worry, my friend!" Leonardo exclaimed, "You know my door is always open for you! Margherita, please prepare a bed for Ezio."
She nodded and stood to do as told just as Piero began to clear the table, "Yes, sir."
Well, that certainly isn't following the game, she thought. Then again, do we really know how quickly or slowly time passes while in game-play mode? Then she mentally sighed, This could be dangerous. Who knows what trouble we'll get into under the same roof?
"Thank you, my friend!" Ezio grinned and rose to help Piero clear the table just as Margherita disappeared upstairs.
"Ezio, that isn't necessary," the inventor expostulated.
The assassin just smiled and shook his head, "It's the least that I can do to thank you for your hospitality."
"Actually, the least you can do is… keep your reproductive organs to yourself."
And with that the conversation was closed.
After getting a breath of fresh air on the roof, Ezio entered one of the second floor rooms via the window. He was certain Leonardo had disappeared into another chamber to work undisturbed. And the assistant was no where to be seen; he'd probably also shut himself up. It seemed he had emerged from the outside into Margherita's room. There wasn't much of a personal touch – just a bed, a dresser, and small desk. Books were stacked, cluttering the floor to the point that he could barely find a path through it all and some of the stacks reached up to his waist.
Ezio knew she was still downstairs so he grabbed one of them from a pile near her bed, and he flipped it open. Scanning the scribbled writings, he realized it was all in a foreign language. It seemed she was too lazy to learn to write Italian… but she was probably a peasant so the fact that she had any schooling at all was amazing.
Once he realized there was nothing left to do, he then descended the stairs to the main part of the workshop. Margherita was bent over the cot she had just prepared, pulling a blanket across it, then fluffing the pillow. He paused a moment, watching the way her position accented her backside. She seemed to have noticed him, however, because she stood erect and turned towards him. With a small, flirty smile, (it seemed, she was in a good mood) she gave an exaggerated curtsey, "I have prepared your glorious bedchamber, milord."
Giving a gentle chuckle, Ezio glanced around. The small cot had been set up right in the middle of the main workshop. Following her joke, he gave a stiff bow and said, "You have my sincerest thanks, milady."
When he glanced back up Margherita was smiling… and it was the kind of smile that crept up to her eyes and put a supple twinkle in it. Yes, she was definitely in a good mood. Without much thought Ezio stood straight and crossed the room to finally kiss her. It was the perfect moment – she looked so unguarded, and there was no one to interrupt them – finally. And goodness knew, his uncle's training didn't leave much time for… other activities.
He was barely two feet away when a flicker of recognition crossed her face – she knew he was going to kiss her … and she gave the slightest flinch. Ezio mentally cursed and thanked his ancestors for his Sight. He would rather have remained ignorant of her discomfort, but part of him was glad because he didn't want to hurt her, even unintentionally. Not the girl who had done so much for his family.
Leonardo's words washed over him – yes, yes. A man she could trust in.
Instead he reached for her scarred hand, acting as though that had been his intention all along. Certainly, he had noticed it at dinner and had wondered about it. Briefly, he recalled how she'd been wearing bandages on that appendage two years prior. Ezio turned it over and inspected the healed burns. Margherita feebly tried to pull away. She had taken off her fingerless glove during the dissection and had left it off for dinner, but he hadn't had a chance to get a good look.
The scar was a supple, shiny pink ringed with translucent white. It was raised about a quarter of an inch and as Ezio traced a finger over the largest, angriest part, she didn't react.
"Does it hurt?" he asked.
"Not anymore. It's stiff, mostly," she pulled her hand back and Ezio let her. "The pink part is totally numb."
He nodded slowly, "Was this… was this punishment for helping my mother?"
Blinking, she was a little shocked before she shook her head, "No, no this was – Alberti never found out about… that, I don't think," she explained. "But, um, he tried to destroy those documents and… well,"
"Oh, he burned them?" Ezio finished.
Margherita nodded, decided she was done with this conversation, then bowed her head "goodnight" before she bounded up to her own bedchamber.
The next morning, Margherita was not surprised when she came down for breakfast to find that the eagle-titled assassin had fled the coop. As she dismantled the cot and packed it away for the next guest, Leonardo descended the stairs, "Good morning, Margherita," he greeted, giving a little wave.
"Good morning, Leonardo," she said before turning back to her work. It wasn't until she picked up the cushion Ezio had used as a pillow the night before and managed to breathe in an unfamiliar and pleasant scent that must have been the young man's own that she gave a great sigh.
"Ah," Leonardo had apparently heard, "Are you upset that he is gone?"
The girl gave herself a moment to think – she was probably more relieved that Ezio had left, especially without saying goodbye prior to his departure. Last night's discussion brought up things she preferred to keep silent and hidden. She was an idiot to leave her hand unbound – she never left it unbound. Even with her male distractions, her hand and its shameful mark were always covered. It was something she didn't want to think about… that day, that night… she wanted to push it all out of her mind. So, she went back to what she knew best: science and socializing. And she was happy.
Happy.
Which was partially unbelievable, considering she'd always been close to her family, a lover of luxuries, and so innocent. Now she might never see her family again, had to work hard for everything she wanted, and was terribly tainted. But it was peaceful here with just the genius and his rotating assistants, the paintings, the books, the experiments… even the dead bodies.
And this stupid assassin was just going to complicate things.
But she couldn't very well tell Leonardo that… she hadn't even explained her "oh, yeah, bee-tee-dubbs, I'm, like, from the future. Or another realm. It's, like, mucho complicated" scenario yet. So, she lied, "Yeah, it was kind of nice having a guest."
Leonardo gave a broad grin for some un-godly reason and left the room, saying over his shoulder, "Then perhaps we'll have to host him more often."
At night I lie awake
Thinking of all the hearts I'd happily break
It's cruel I know
At least they tell me so
Well someone lock me up and throw away the key
Because I'm not ashamed, oh no
Oh, willow
- Emilie Autumn