First new chapter in, what, four months? That's how long I haven't had internet! Do I even still have readers? If so I'd appreciate a comment to let me know you're still interested :)

Translations
Mia bella: my beauty
Nipote: nephew
Zio: uncle

Chapter Nine

Reverie

While Ezio remained asleep in front of Leonardo's fireplace his elder brother entered the stream of people passing by the workshop, lifting the pointed cowl to shadow his face. Federico listened intently to their gossip as he drifted from the market to Ponte di Rialto to Squero di San Trovaso, but after an hour of mindless chatter he realized he should be investigating the places the murderess was most likely to be found: houses of God.

The Assassin made his way to the modest church where the most recent dead priest had been a parishioner. There was already a memorial of flowers surrounding the building that Federico slowed to examine. By the front entrance, in plain sight, he spied a bouquet of peach-colored roses and was unable to prevent a half-smile from turning his lips. Sniffing the bouquet revealed that it was very fresh, perhaps cut this morning, and had been placed recently, but more interesting was a little card hidden among the petals that only close inspection would have revealed.

Glancing around, Federico withdrew the note before replacing the blossoms. On it in very nice handwriting was an address, so with a sigh the man plunged into the populace again. After circling the same block a few times he realized he needed to take a gondola to reach his destination, and the gondolier informed him that the address belonged to an exclusive hotel. "Your friend wants you to meet them in room twelve which is on the third floor," the man with a thin mustache informed his patron as he navigated the maze of canals.

"Grazie," Federico nodded once arriving at a jetty that led to a petal-covered courtyard. He ascended stone steps with trepidation growing in his stomach. Part of him wanted to believe Ruxandra would be waiting at the end of this breadcrumb trail, but his logical mind knew it could be a trap. The Assassins were not without their enemies, after all, and it was very possible the Curia in Rome believed they were the ones behind the murders.

Federico halted outside the entrance to room twelve. It was directly in the center of the corridor and halfway between the ground and the top of the building, making his chances of quick escape completely equal on all accounts. He raised his fist to pound on the wooden portal, then thought better of it and barged right into the room instead. Although he had been calm before he now felt his nerves twitching in response to the eerie silence and apparent vacancy of the suite.

"I've come, like you wanted," he decided to announce. "I'm not angry at you for killing members of the church; I know their deaths were justified in your mind. If you would show yourself, tell me why you did it and I promise no harm will come to you." Federico's voice resonated in the silent abode, yet no one appeared or said anything in return. He moved from the sitting area into the bedroom, slowly, like a great cat hunting its quarry. His short boots made no sound upon the floor as he scanned each corner of the room, but it seemed no one had been there for a long time.

Except… someone had slept in the bed, recently in fact. Federico realized this when he noticed a bodily indent in the silk top sheet, and sniffing the pillow informed his senses that the tenant was indeed a woman. His heart rate instantly increased and his eyelids fluttered in remembrance of Ruxandra who had always smelled like roses, apples and wine. One of those ingredients was now much stronger than the others but the scent still reawakened feelings he had been a stranger to for several years, the most overwhelming of which was desire. A sweat broke out on the backs of his hands and Federico gripped the cool carved wooden bed frame to steady himself.

His reverie was interrupted by the sudden sound of water dripping. Although slight his keen ears caught it, jerking his head toward a curtain at one side of the room. Alarm bells were telling him that he was walking directly into a trap; all his Assassin intuition kept reminding him to fully analyze the situation first, not stride directly into danger. Federico stood on the other side of the curtain for a brief, tense moment before squeezing his eyes shut as he shoved the fabric aside.

"…Well," a perturbed feminine voice said after a short silence, "this was definitely not how I expected to introduce myself to you."

The Assassin dared crack open one eye to put a face to the speaker; however, as soon as he glimpsed bare feet leading to bare calves connected to bare thighs and derrière— 'Dio mio…' —he hurriedly closed it. The woman padded across the floor without a sound, something he took notice of. He cleared his throat and fixated his gaze on the rug beneath the bathtub. "You are the one who has been slaying church members of Venezia?" His tone held an unintended note of disbelief which the woman smirked at.

"Who wants to know?" she smoothly replied.

"I do."

"And who are you, Messer?"

The accent manifesting itself in the last word forced Federico to look at her, but this time she was covered by a robe and stared back with a curious eyebrow. Ezio had been right— it was Ruxandra. But if he did not already have a name to match her face, he would have thought the girl— 'Woman… She's all woman now' —a queen from a foreign land.

The soft, spritely face had been replaced by harsher angles and milky, pale skin that exuded a frosty aura. Her eyes were as blue as the summer sky but glistened with treacherous facets that could drown a man if he gazed into them for too long. Her long hair was as cornsilk that begged to be touch— it was the only soft thing about her now. Cherry lips were as succulent and inviting as he remembered.

Ruxandra stood unflinching as she felt the Assassin's eyes studying her form even though she could not see them. It had been a full minute since her inquiry regarding his identity and his lips, which were pressed in a thin line, had yet to offer a name. "I know who you are…" she finally said with a coy grin that showed teeth when the man inhaled sharply. "You are an asasin. You are part of the brotherhood that rules the city of Monteriggioni. Mario Auditore is your Grand Master, and it is he who I would like to meet."

Federico was at a loss for a response. How could she possibly know all this? One answer presented itself based on information again supplied by Ezio: "she has a Hidden Blade". Only Assassins carried such weapons and Leonardo had personally built the one encircling his arm; it was impossible he had provided Ruxandra with the instrument that had cut his brother's face. "Show it to me…" he demanded, "the thing that provided such knowledge of our Order." He followed her into the bedroom and waited while she opened one of the drawers of an armoire. Ruxandra hesitated before proffering the bracer.

The leather looked devoid of major wear, but upon closer inspection Federico noticed how the outlines of the etched and tooled designs were cracking. Three broad straps held the sheath of the Hidden Blade in place and triggering it made him hum with interest, for the shaft was thin and slightly curved at the base. He turned it over again to examine the stylized triangular symbol of the Assassin Order that rested between a set of broad wings.

"Where did you get this?" the man needed to know. He avoided meeting Ruxandra's gaze.

"I inherited it from my father," she replied matter-of-factly. "He was an asasin, like you." Her eyes narrowed to sharp slits as Federico slowly lowered the weapon.

"How could you know that… your father is dead."

There was a familiar expression– Ruxandra's aghast countenance showed him exactly what was going through her mind as her jaw hung open uselessly. Slowly she began to shake her head and back away from the man, bumping into the dresser. "Wh-who are you?" she stammered.

Federico desperately wanted to reveal himself to the woman who once upon a time could have been his bride. He had had many dreams of walking through fields with her, sharing elegant meals with her, waking up beside her and… making love to her. But that was in a past life– he was an Assassin now, an important one at that, and a fine detective. In the interest of learning her secrets it was prudent that she remain oblivious to his identity… for now.

"I am one who has come to take you to the Grand Master," Federico finally said. "We have questions for you, and we can't have you killing any more innocents."

The woman almost snorted. "Innocents! Hardly… The men I slew were all guilty of sin."

"It is not your place to judge them," Federico countered.

Blue eyes flashed. "You are correct… It is the duty of an asasin to bring evil men to justice."

"And I suppose that is what you think you are." Thankfully over the years Federico had grown quite competent at verbal sparring, having had many disagreements with his brother. Ruxandra wasn't about to win this contest of wit. Her look of hurt made him feel just a bit guilty, however, and his tone softened. "Perhaps you can prove yourself useful to us."

A scoff was his answer. "Your master will beg me to join you once he hears what I have to say."

Leonardo gently shook his guest awake, but Ezio didn't wake gently. He sat up flailing and sputtering which earned laughs from the three other occupants of the room. "Did you find her?" he groggily inquired of his brother, who stepped aside to reveal Ruxandra. She faced him with a scowl and crossed arms and he couldn't help but leer. "We meet again, mia bella."

"Say that again if you want a matching scar on your other cheek," the woman hissed. "The great Leonardo da' Vinci I recognize, but who are you?"

"I am Ez—" Federico shook his head as a warning. "Err… a mere courier," he carefully finished, earning a nod of acceptance. Ruxandra slowly released an annoyed breath.

"Fine… It does not matter to me who you are. The only person I am interested in meeting is your Grand Master. Take me to him."

Ezio's eyebrow arched sky-high. "You are in no position to be ordering us around, signorina. I seem to recall you running away from our last encounter." In the light of the room he got a better view of her armaments which consisted of a blackwood recurve bow strung over her back and a double-wrapped leather belt around her waist that supported several pouches, a length of rope with a mean hook on the end, and a sheathed dagger. The full quiver of arrows rested along her opposite leg and he frowned at the feathered fletching.

'She looks more like a hunter than one of us…' he mused, although her violet cappa acted the same way as their hoods, shielding her face while they rode along the road to Monteriggioni. Ruxandra insisted on having her own horse because she wasn't about to degrade herself by riding behind one of the men, a statement that earned a snicker from Ezio. He distinctly remembered the girl pleading them to help her get home which outnumbered the amount of times she said she could do it on her own. Federico was nervous when they reached the front steps of the fortress. He had no idea how his uncle would react and frankly did not want to be in his office if he decided Ruxandra was nothing more than an impudent child. He held his breath before knocking on the double doors.

"Avanti!" the stout man's voice bellowed from within, crushing Federico's last hope that perhaps he was out on a mission. He pushed them open and quickly came to stand in front of the large wooden desk, greeting Mario with a nod that he didn't reciprocate because he quickly rose to his feet upon seeing his female guest. Ezio repressed a knowing smirk as he stood on the other side of Ruxandra. "Nipote, who is this?"

She took the liberty of introducing herself. "Ruxandra Narcisa Hunyadi," she said with a bow, "I am pleased to finally meet you."

"Mario Auditore," the sturdy man grinned in return. "Please tell me why you've come."

Ruxandra rested most of her weight on one foot, sticking her hip out. "There is an evil plot coming to fruition against your Order. Men from the north are seeking to reclaim an object you so laboriously sought to bring under your protection, and with this relic they would hope to dominate everyone in the Mediterranean and beyond."

Mario's eyes widened in surprise while Federico felt his nerves sinking into his stomach. Slowly, pensively, the bearded man spoke. "What relic is it that they seek?"

"The Ring of Hunyad. A long time ago it was in my personal possession, but even as a child I knew it was not an ordinary piece of jewelry." Her eyes fell to the floor in shame. "My uncle knows all about this item, and he knows it is here, in this city, beneath our very feet." At those words the Assassins gasped. She couldn't possibly know about the Sanctuary! "I can sense it even now, the ring that has been in my family for generations unrecorded." Ruxandra adamantly planted her hands on the desk. "I have sought you out, Grand Master, with one request: give the ring back to me. The Order will be safe this way."

The brothers shared a look of mild horror and confusion while Mario sought to quell his temper at the audacity of her words. It had been his decree to send Giovanni's sons to Transylvania with the girl, a quest he felt was partially to blame for the deaths of his brother's wife, daughter and youngest child. For years he wondered if he had done the right thing by initiating Federico and Ezio into the Order, and now this woman was seeking to undo all their arduous work.

"Give it back?" Mario finally growled. "I think not, signorina. That artifact is beyond hope of control; I cannot very well let you out into the world with it." He relaxed a tense fist and wearily pinched the bridge of his nose. "In exchange for the details of this plot you know so much about, however, I will grant you asylum for some time."

Ruxandra nodded in acceptance; she had expected such an answer. "My uncle is Matthius Corvinus, the King of Hungary. He has been searching for the ring of my father for my entire life. He knows you have it, and now others know as well. He has made a pact with holy men from this country, men of the Catholic Church—"

"That's why you've been killing them…" Federico interrupted, understanding.

The woman nodded again. "I thought that by striking fear of death into their hearts, these men might reveal themselves, but I have been in Italya for three months and still they are unknown. However, my uncle has a contact in the city of Florence that relays messages between Hungary and the Vatican."

"Name him," Mario commanded.

"Ambrus Meszaros, a feared general of the Hungarian army." She shuddered slightly upon picturing the vile man. "I have tried many times to interrogate him myself, but—"

Ezio interjected now. "Let me guess… he is protected by the entire army."

Ruxandra smirked ruefully. "Not every soldier under the king's command, but you are correct. It is impossible for me to reach him; he is rarely vulnerable."

Mario absorbed this information in silence, trying to decide which course of action would be best. "If we are able to question him, we will know who has corrupted the Vatican," he thought aloud. "But what's to stop Matthius Corvinus from marching right into this place and attempting to take the ring back?"

At this the woman grinned. "They have something he wants… rather; a single man in the Vatican has something my uncle greatly desires. He would use it in conjunction with the ring, but to what end I do not know. The artifact in the Church's possession is yet another thing I need to discover."

Mario sighed deeply since he now felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Thank you for sharing such insight with me, signorina. Feel free to utilize all that our villa and this town have to offer. For the time being you'll be treated as an honorary member of the brotherhood."

"Can you do that?" Ezio skeptically wondered. His uncle only shrugged and sat back down, dismissing the three young people. Once out in the corridor Ezio shoved his chin close to his brother's ear. "Things aren't the same as before," he muttered a bit harshly. "Don't even think about getting close to her. She's different, dangerous, and I don't trust her at all, regardless of what she knows." He gave Federico a hard glare. "She's not your potential wife anymore."

"…I know that," the taller man replied a bit indignantly. "I'm not a fool."

Ezio rolled his eyes. "Our previous adventure has led me to believe otherwise, fratello." He strode down the hall without further word, leaving his brother and Ruxandra alone.

She tapped her foot impatiently. "I'll show you to your quarters," Federico offered, earning a slight smile of thanks. The expression had not been genuine since he had walked in on her in the bathroom; perhaps she resented the fact that he had seen her naked. 'It was only her legs,' the man refuted. Federico paused outside a door to one of the vacant grand bedrooms of the mansion; if the rest of his family were still alive, Claudia would have claimed this retreat.

"So elegant…" Ruxandra couldn't help but breathe in awe. It was much nicer than her suite at the hotel which had only been used for a few days since she never stayed in the same place too long, but she could grow accustomed to sleeping on the enormous canopy bed and having plenty of room for her belongings. She turned back toward the man with an unexpectedly soft countenance. "It is only mid-day… Will you show me the rest of the villa?"

Federico wordlessly agreed to be her tour guide. He took her to the armory that held all types of weaponry from the region. They ventured to the library upstairs, then into the kitchen where Ruxandra accepted a hunk of fresh buttered bread. Outside they stood on the balcony overlooking tranquil gardens, but just looking at them was not enough for the young woman. Federico followed her into the green field while maintaining his distance.

"It is very peaceful here…" she sighed after a particularly playful breeze died down. "To think I could have called this my home long ago."

"What do you mean?" the man asked in a neutral tone. Ruxandra looked at him a bit shyly, the first time since their reunion her smug confidence waned.

"I once knew a young man- a very handsome, brave lad- who asked me to marry him. This was the city we were to live in; I did not believe the description he gave of its beauty, but now I can see why one would want to have a family here."

Federico managed to quell the hammering of his heart by internally repeating, 'It was in the past, this was all in the past…' "Why were you not wed?" he still found himself asking. This question was a storm cloud obscuring her sunny visage, which turned cold and hard once more.

"My uncle came for me, so I was unable to give him an answer. I am not angry at him for leaving— I wanted him to flee for his own safety. But I do wish I could have told him…"

'What? What? What answer would you have given, mia cara?' He feigned ignorance and redirected the conversation. "Matthius came for you because he wanted the Ring of Hunyad?"

"Si, our family relic that houses an evil spirit. But I could not tell him where it was, so he tried to beat its hiding place out of me." Ruxandra shot the man a conflicted glance that wanted to seek pity yet held too much pride to do so. "It was futile… I told him nothing because I remembered nothing about it, but the two lads who traveled with me must have found it because it is here under the protection of your kind."

"What did you do up until now? Why did you wait so long to seek us out?"

Ruxandra relaxed once more. "I had to take care of my family, my madre and nonna. You see, my uncle's knights had been waiting for me, waiting in the forest until I arrived home after ten years abroad. During that time they hunted mercilessly, killing more game than they required, so the wolves began to die off. Our people had no pelts to trade for food, so I became the hunter. I tracked bear and wolves and deer through the vast forest so my people would not starve or freeze to death during winter… and I was good at it."

Federico examined the taut recurve on her back and Ruxandra withdrew the weapon for him to gingerly accept. Bows were all but non-existent among his allies— they preferred swords, daggers, throwing knives and of course the Hidden Blade. Every assassin had one; Ezio had two actually, one being laced with poison that made a man dangerous to his own allies. A sharp rapier hung from the wide belt around Federico's waist; he had been well-trained by his father and uncle.

"It looks very strong," he remarked of the blackened oak bow. He strummed the string that appeared to be sinew from some animal and the reverberation made him grin in satisfaction. There had to be a lot of force behind the huntress' arrows.

"I have a question for you, asasin, and I want an honest answer…" The man met her sharp eyes with mild apprehension. "How do you know of my father?"

Federico purposely drew out the silence. "…I translated his journal," he finally answered. "I'm a linguist, and I wanted to know if Laszlo Hunyadi had written about the ring, which he did."

Ruxandra gave a brief sigh. "I see… I had hoped that wearing this weapon would help me keep his creed alive, and that is yet another reason why I am here." Her visage steeled so suddenly Federico was taken aback. "I want to join the Order… I want to become an Assassin like my father."

"If I were our zio, I would say no," Ezio stated during dinner which Ruxandra was exempt from. "She doesn't have the skill or discipline to do what we do."

Federico's raised eyebrow challenged that claim. "Scusi, but was it not Ruxandra who got away with killing one man nearly every day for an entire month? In Venezia, by the way, where it is not easy to avoid attention."

Giovanni said nothing while his eyes flicked between each son. "Anyone can kill someone," Ezio refuted, "we do it all the time."

"There is more to our creed than just killing people," Federico scoffed. "Ruxandra wants to uphold the values we struggle to maintain. She wants to protect the innocent as well. You just don't like the idea of having her as a member because she's a woman."

"No… I don't like the idea of her joining our Order because you are still in love with her!" Ezio's hawk eyes attempted to pierce his brother's stoic countenance. "I knew it from the moment you told me that Laszlo's journal reminds you of her. I never should have brought that rose back from the priest's corpse…" He shook his head disdainfully.

Federico took several deep breaths to keep himself calm. "I do not love her… I don't even know her anymore. Ruxandra is a different person now… I am a different person. What previously attracted me isn't there any longer, so…" He paused, unsure of his own words. "I feel like we need her help regarding this matter with Matthius and the Vatican and she would be more willing to aid us if she was our equal."

Ezio was remiss to accept such logic. That was how his brother always presented his case— there was no winning against irrefutable logic, even when he hated the outcome. "I still don't agree with you… but it will be our uncle's decision."

Only once the stars were out in force did Federico retire to his personal sanctuary. With a heavy sigh he unbuttoned the long white duster jacket, mussing his cropped hair as he did so. He slumped into a chair to unbuckle his short boots, then leaned forward to pull a red and gold doublet over his head. He flexed his arm after removing the metal bracer and sat in a manner that belied his age, ruminating over the events that had transpired today.

Never in his life had he imagined Ruxandra to be sleeping in a room just down the hall again; that fact almost made him leave to knock on her door, yet he knew without a doubt she wouldn't let him into her bed as before. She was no longer that girl.

'She is a hunter, but she doesn't see a difference between hunting animals and people… she has no empathy.' But maybe that was understandable. People did cruel things to one another— Ruxandra knew that firsthand as a victim to her uncle's torture. Only an insane man could inflict such pain upon his own kin. 'She had to fight to survive these past five years,' Federico thought. 'I can't expect her to feel comfortable in such a different setting already.'

He was jarred from contemplation by a series of quick raps upon his door. 'What does Ezio want now?' He pulled it open with a huffy breath that instantly turned into a surprised gasp when he met Ruxandra's glowing eyes. "Signorina! What are you doing here?"

"You can dispense with the formalities, Federico. I have known it was you since the Grand Master called you nipote." She slipped by him to sit in his desk chair. Confused, the man shut his door and returned to the edge of his bed. Silence occupied the air between them like a thick, strangling mist until Ruxandra's lips parted. "Do you remember how we first met, Federico? You came up to me and said I was the most beautiful lady in all of Florence. No one had spoken to me like that until then, and no one has spoken to me like that since."

A hint of a smile turned his lips. "I was much brasher in my youth… but I did mean what I said. You were- you still are- the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." 'But I know it's an unattainable beauty now.'

"…Grazie," the woman said to the carpet. "Federico, I want to show you something…" He remained unmoving as Ruxandra walked right up to him. The silk nightgown one of the maids had provided her was too voluminous to show off any enticing parts of her body, but Federico easily recalled her slim legs, toned thighs and fine, fine ass. So when she turned around and pulled the garment up and over her head to present him with a bare back there was absolutely nothing he could do to withhold the breath of desire that escaped his lips, which were tingling due to racing blood.

"Put your hands on me," Ruxandra murmured. Federico eagerly obliged by gripping the lithe muscles of her waist. His thumbs slipped into the indents of her lower back which he caressed for a minute, then moved forward to feel her hip bones in his palms. He remembered watching her dance in the galley of the Turkish vessel that had sailed them to Constantinople, mystified by the motions her hips had made.

Her sweet natural perfume was making his head spin. He was certain that if he kissed her anywhere he would taste delicious, sugary, juicy apples. And grapes… Ruxandra always smelled like freshly harvested grapes, small red ones that turned into dessert wine. Finally he caught notes of the roses, those elegant, full blossoms that came in a rainbow of colors. They were beautiful to look at but hazardous to grasp. Federico reined in his desire as his fingertips crept up her spine.

What they touched felt like hot fire searing him to the bone. He released her with a gasp, rubbing his hands to see if he had actually been burnt. But no, that was just the way the skin on her back felt. Myriad angry scars flashed bright red in the candlelight even though they had healed long ago. Federico traced them with a feather-light touch, wincing as the sound of her tortured cries echoed throughout his mind. "Madre di Dio…" was all the man whispered, for further words died on his lips.

"I do not hate my uncle for giving me these," Ruxandra quietly spoke. "They remind me why I need to stand and fight against people like him, whose cruelty knows not kin from true enemy." Her body twisted as she turned to look at the man seated behind her. "I want to join you so no one has to suffer the way I did. Federico Auditore da Firenze…" She fully faced him now, unashamed of being completely nude. "If I destroy my father's ring, Matthius will never hurt anyone again. Do you know what I am asking of you?"

His sepia eyes remained locked on hers, seeing all the agony, sorrow, courage and fortitude they possessed. "Yes, Ruxandra… I'll return it to you. I swear I will. It is too late for me to protect you, but if there is anything I can do to prevent others from falling to similar fates, I will help you." Federico cupped her perfect face in his hands, finally earning the smile he recalled when he dreamt. 'I never stopped loving you,' he wanted to say, but he feared losing that serene smile to all the masks Ruxandra used to protect herself. What he wouldn't give to freeze this moment in time forever.

"Kiss me," the ethereal maiden whispered.

"What?"

"Seal your promise with a kiss, Federico."

The way his name passed her lips trickled down his spine like a drop of cold water. He had kissed them before with varying degrees of emotion, but this was one he could not name. Perhaps it was a feeling yet known to man. Whatever was fueling the fire in his veins became replaced by a white-hot inferno when Federico surged forward to meet her mouth. He melted with her onto his bed, his remaining clothes incinerating while he sunk into a state of bliss.

Not in half a decade had he conceived the thought of kissing another woman or even looking upon one with interest. Federico felt guilty for not being able to save her like he had sworn to himself, but Ruxandra forgave him. She abolished his guilt by letting him prove how much he loved her, how years of desire came down to this: a night of passion and trust, a new promise he made that could only be severed by Death… yet even then his will would carry on.

"I will protect you forever."