Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing! No Ezio. No Altair. I own nothing. This is purely for amusement, nothing else!
Story Info
Summary: Life or Death. That's usually what it all comes down to. But not for me. I got some thing else. I got a choice. Now follow me Olivia Steel, as I thrown into a world I never believed true and try to change a shattered future.
Pairings: Eventual! Ezio/OC, Mentions of Ezio/Many, Mentions OC/others.
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Thank you "Interesting Fanfictions of all Kinds" for adding my to your community!
Thank you for the reviews, Onesmartcookuie78, Kyouki no kitsune, Artemis's best Huntress, Alaria von Ravencroft, Sky65, nekotea13, StrongerThanILook16, Fang, Guest, Guest 2, Guest 3, Kurotiger, The Female Assassin, Regretfulust, Eleanor Fey, IrishxCoffee, HangingOnYourEveryWord! You guys and gals reviews helped me finish this chapter, thanks.
Guest Reviews:
Fang: I had totally forgotten about that reference! lol, Don't worry I've had many times that's happened to me too. Glad that you enjoyed it. :D
Guest 1:Thank you so much! Livvy is Olivia's nickname.
Guest 2: I know! I'm so sorry! :(
Guest 3: Thank you!
Got to give the Props to: The game, the novel by Oliver Bowden and the game script. It has really helped me keep up with the storyline and stay true to everything and everyone. I know I don't update fast as I used to, but taking breaks from this story seemed to help because when I come back to it, the writing just comes so easy to me. Also "Malice of Fortune" by Michael Ennis was also a big inspiration as well. Hope you all enjoy. :D
WARNING: Nothing explicit, but talk of death and torture that may be uncomfortable for some
NOTE: I honestly thought I had updated. I had the chapter written out, and totally forgot to update. Then my computer hard drive crashed, and I just realized yesterday that I had forgotten upload the next chapter to this. AND I FREAKING LOVE HOW IT TURNED OUT! It was a struggle to recreate it and I feel that in some parts it doesn't flow as well as it had before, but I still hope you enjoy it.
Chapter Inspired by:
"Broke" by Halestorm
"Let Me In" by Halestorm
CHAPTER THIRTY
"ALL GOOD THINGS"
Darkness settled all around her. It was not a heavy dark, but a comfortable one that made her feel weightless and completely at ease. She floated amongst it for what seemed like an eternity before awareness slowly crept back into her body. And the more awareness came, the more the aches and pains resurfaced. The comfortable feeling ebbed away in waves until she could no longer feel the thrall of sleep. Her eyeslashes fluttered, and her lips parted in a harsh breath. She didn't have to open her eyes to know that it was day time. The sun's warm light spilt into the room, and across where she slept. It should have felt like heaven, but instead she felt cold. As if the blood in her veins had been turned to ice, and no sun nor blanket could cure her.
A cool hand felt her forehead, then her cheek. "You are burning up," came Leonardo's voice, and she need not to open her eyes to know he was frowning. She could practically hear it in his voice.
Leonardo? Olivia was momentarily confused, but then slowly she pieced the night together bit by bit. From attending the festivities with Machiavelli to the dance with Salvatore then finding out she had been poisoned. A miserable groan fell from her lips, and she cursed herself for not being so vigilant the other night. Normally, she never drunk anything handed to her, but allowed her guard to slip up for one moment. It was one moment that almost cost her everything, especially her life.
"I did not notice," Olivia said, her voice strained. Her mouth felt like a spider had nested there, and her head pulsed with pain with each beat of her heart. Her throat was still hurt from being forced to choke up the poison, and she grimaced, rubbing her throat gingerly. "I feels so cold."
"That would be the fever," Leonardo stated, evenly.
That made Olivia pull open her eyes, and she looked up at the inventor's face. There was a long moment of silence, and then she spoke, "You are angry."
"Yes."
"Going to lecture me?" Livvy questioned, lightly.
"No," Leonardo said. "I'll let Ezio do that. He has been informed of your condition, and is likely on his way to Florence now."
She paled at that. "You are cruel. How did I not know you were cruel? Why was I not aware of this?" Olivia questioned, slightly dazed.
Leonardo smiled, thinly. "I'm only cruel when it is needed, I assure you."
Olivia let out a long breath, when Leonardo placed a damp rag upon her brow. "How long have I been out?" She asked, relaxing back against the pillow. She had no energy to try and sit up. Her body felt stripped of all life, and it was taking everything to keep her eyes open.
"Two days," Leonardo replied, sitting down in the chair beside the bed. "The poison was in your body long enough to cause you to be very sick. Given the alternative, I think this is the more preferred outcome."
"Sickness beats death anyday," Olivia said, with a raspy chuckle. Her mirth was quickly quiet, and her small smile slipped off of her face. "I was foolish. I should know better than..." She gave an aggravated shake of her head as she cut off. Her expression pinched, and she turned her face towards Leonardo. "So...any news? Have Niccolò or La Volpe discovered anything new?"
There was something on his face, a small flicker of hesitation. "There was another murder last night."
Guilt burnt like bile up Olivia's throat, and despair crossed her face. "Damn it all to hell," she cursed, violently. It was her fault. If she hadn't gotten poisoned then she could have been out there, and could have stopped him. Or at the very least caught him. Her error had cost them precious time, and she ran her fingers through her hair aggravatedly.
Leonardo gave her a sympathetic look. He knew there were no words that could alleviate the guilt that she was drowning in, and instead steered the conversation to something more productive. "Machiavelli briefly came to check upon you, and wanted you to know that they are looking into Salvatore's wife to see if you suspicions are true," the painter commented, taking the vial of medicine from the intable. He held it out to Olivia with an expecting look on his face.
Olivia sighed, and took the vial. Her hand was slightly shaky, but she managed to not drop it. Uncapping the bottle, she leaned up and downed the vile liqiud. She blanched, shaking her head and shoved the empty bottle back into Leonardo's waiting hand. "They are," Olivia explained, tiredly flopped back. "The brief moment I spoke to her I noticed a birth mark just visible above the collar of her dress. From the documents you had me look over I recalled that the missing courtesan was known quite for having a birthmark shaped like a pear."
Leonardo hummed underneath his breath. "It would have taken a great deal of influence to elevate someone to a well enough status to marry Salvatore. Even more to create a background that no one would question, or dare to," he commented, thoughtfully.
"Influence that Giaordano Borgia would have," Olivia pointed out, with a harsh scowl.
"Then how do Salvatore and his wife fit into this?" Leonardo asked.
"Salvatore fell in love with his the then courtesan and now his wife who saw something all those years ago that implicated Giaordano in the murders. The Salvatore family has great influence that couldn't be ignored, so Giaordano figured a way to kill two birds with one stone," Olivia theorized, letting her eyes fall closed. She pulled the blanket upward, and clutched the fabric between her fingers. "It assured their secrecy, and was a leash them if need be."
"He would give the courtesan all the trapings of a lady to marry her lover in exchange for their silence," Leonardo nodded his head, with a small frown. "It would make sense. It would be why La Volpe was so keen upon the idea of Borgia being the murderer. I will send word to Machiavelli, and see if they can find evidence to support your suspicions."
"Hmmm." Olivia hummed, softly. A sudden weariness and sadness fell upon her chest. She turned her eyes towards the ceiling, and watched as a tiny spider crawled towards the corner to make it's web. "Do we know how Salvatore knew to have me poisoned?"
"Ah, yes. With help of the local Madame, we able to find the child that approached you. Apparently, she had been paid to point you out of the crowd," Leonardo explained, with disguist written upon his face. "It seems that these villians are not above using children as a means to an end."
"And I shouldn't have been so careless," Olivia grumbled, mentally berating herself. "I knew that there was something off in the way the child approached me, but I gave it little thought. Perhaps if I had then I wouldn't have been poisoned in the first place."
Leonardo gave her a look. "Are you not afraid you were poisoned because someone suspect you are the Red Hood?" He asked, quietly.
"The thought crossed my mind—somewhere between the throwing up and almost dying bit. But I don't believe that is was because I'm the Red Hood that I was poisoned. If that were so my demise would be far more public and painful than a mere slip of poison in a cup. Enemies of mine don't want me to disappear silently. They want me to be burnt at the stake to leave no doubt in anyone's mind that the Red Hood is dead," Olivia explained, with a grim sort of smile. "No, I believe it was because my association with Machiavelli that drew someone's gaze upon me."
Leonardo frowned, deeply. His gaze was shrew as he considered her words carefully. "You believe the true villian behind these acts suspected that we were close to finding him, and poisoned you as warning to Machiavelli to back off?"
"I do," Olivia said, quietly with an incline of her head. "It's the only thing that makes sense given the circumstances." She pressed the back of her knuckles to her lips, and stared at the wall adjacent from her. A tremble went through her heart, and a foreboding sensation settled into the pit of her gut. "Leonardo...I don't like the turn that this has taken. I fear that this is only the beginning of much worse things."
"Yes." Leonardo mumbled, underneath his breath. "I think it most likely that someone will try to kill you again. Borgia most likely."
"Most likely," she agreed on a sigh.
The artist much have sense her exhaustion because he grasped the cool rag, and dipped it into the basin one last time to refresh it. He dapped it across her neck, and her face before he settled it upon her forehead. "Rest, passerotta," Leonardo told her. "You will need to regain your strength if you hope to find this man who did this, and stop him."
Livvy nodded, and slumped against the bed. It did not take long for her to slip back into oblivion's arms, and far away from the land of the living.
It was a righteous anger that burned through his veins. A small flame like at the tip of a candle, but at some point, it had been dropped. The flames lit everything else on fire until it was raging inferno that could not be quenched. Ezio marched into the Florence with purpose in each of his steps. He brushed past the crowds of people who were off to visit relatives, but honestly that was just an excuse to flee from the city where the mad butcher that roamed the streets. It mad him sick to his stomach to that his beloved Frienze was being terrorized by a monster, but it mad him angrier that Olivia had been poisoned by said monster. Instead of travelling his usual path toward Leonardo's, Ezio had a very different destination in mind.
A watering hole that was known for being a favored place of a certain fox. Ironically, he would not have known about it if Olivia's spies hadn't given him the information. They were exceedingly forth coming with him, and he hadn't expected that. But then again, perhaps he should not be so surprised. Very rare was a tale told that the Assassin and Red Hood were parted for it was widely known that where the Assassin would go, the Red Hood was often there in his shadow.
His lips pursed together, and he brushed past the man at the door despite the theif's protests. They fell upon deaf ears, and his golden eyes flared as he made his way down the stairwell and into the cellar. The serving girl wisely stepped out of the enraged assassin's way, and quickly fled up the stairs as if she caught sight of the Devil himself.
"...you knew all along..." La Volpe's voice filled with scorn.
"...could not attack him..." Came an unfamiliar man's. "The Borgia are—"
"I do not care what the Borgia are! You should have let me slit his throat when I had the chance," La Volpe's voice was nearly shouted, and if Ezio cared about the argument taking place then he would have hesitated to open the door.
But he didn't. He slammed the door open, and the two men turned towards him clearly startled by his abrupt entrance. It gave the assassin the opening he needed, and he lunged forward. He slammed La Volpe back against the wall, and pinned him there with an arm braced against the Master Thief's chest and a hidden blade placed against his neck. "What the hell have you gotten Olivia into?" Ezio demanded, his voice like roaring thunder. His golden eyes glowered up into the violet eyes that stared back with just as much fury. "She has been poisoned. Almost died because of you. She agreed to help you, and trusted you to have her back."
"The Red Hood knows the dangers, Assassino," La Volpe said, a satirical lilt to his voice. The look in eyes was mocking and pitying as he stared straight as Ezio's face. "As do you. Did you think that safety is a luxury one can have when chasing demons in the dark?"
Ezio snarled, a flash of white teeth like a wolf's ready to tear out it's victims throat. The hidden blade pressed tighter against La Volpe's neck, just enough to nick the skin. A slender trail of blood ran down his neck, but to his credit, La Volpe barely flinched.
"Do you wish to know what happened? Or kill him?" The unfamiliar man questioned, a mirthless smirk upon his face. "I assure you, he'd be less inclined to answer your questions if he is dead."
A golden eyes swerved to the man who stood there looking infinitely amused by the situation which just made La Volpe bristle even worse. "And who are you?" Ezio demaned, his tone far from the courtly manners his mother would expect out of him.
"Niccolò Machiavelli at your service," the man introduced himself, with a slight bow.
Surprise flashed across Ezio's face, and he eased off of La Volpe ever so slightly. "The Niccolò Machiavelli? My father...he spoke of you with high regards," the Assassin recalled, his brows furrowed together. His eyes flickered from the politician and the Master Thief. "What interesting company you keep."
"The only kind worth keeping," Machiavelli said, feigning nonchalance. He looked completely nonpulsed by the fact Ezio still held a blade to La Volpe's neck, and more like he was at a Sunday brunch. "One must understand all stations of society, and immerse themselves in them to understand the world as a whole. Now, if you are done with you intimidation tactics, Ezio, we should talk?"
Ezio's expression hardened. "Did the Fox tell you about me?"
"I did not need the Master Thief's ears to hear about you," Niccolò smiled, faintly. His keen eyes swept across Ezio from head to toe, and his weighty gaze seemed to judging the very value of Ezio's soul. "I knew your father, and there was not a time I think he did not mention his children in conversation. You were his pride. But I also know you as the Assassin who stalks the Italia streets in search of vengeance, and the nightmares of those unjust. Also a trouble maker, arrogant, and from what I can tell quite the temper."
Ezio could not deny all the charges, but would not stay silent. "Arrogance implies I exaggerate my own worth and capabilities. I don't," he stated, shortly.
"With the death piling up after meeting a messy end on your blade, I'm inclined to agree," Machiavelli stated, . "Now, let us discuss the situation. I can promise you the answers you seek need not be bathed in the Fox's blood."
The Assassin stood still, like a statue and then slowly, he released his grip on La Volpe. The hidden blade slid back into its sheath, and he inclined his head. "My apologies," he apologized, his shoulders slumped with a deep sigh. "I...should have not let my anger overtake me in such a manner."
"It is no matter," La Volpe flicked his hand, dismissively. He walked around the assassin and joined Niccolò at the table after pouring himself a generous glass of red wine. "Your loyalty...to the Red Hood is quite a remarkable one."
Ezio didn't miss the hint of derision in the older man's voice, but he allowed to roll off of him. He knew the bad blood between the two thieves, and knew that no matter how many years would pass that was unlikely to ever change. The Assassin heaved a sigh, and dropped into a sit. Raising a steel like gaze to meet Machiavelli's he, he said too calmly, "Let's talk."
Another day passed.
And Olivia hated every second of it.
She never dealt with being idle well. She had to have something to occupy here time, but Leonardo practically refused to let her even leave the bed. Her fingertips flipped through the pages of a book, Parallel Lives by some fellow called Plutarch. How one man's character could affect things greater than him, a state or even an empire. He spoke of leaders such as Alexander the Great, who achieved unfathomable power, but he also spoke of the dark nature of their hearts. It would have been a fascinating read, but the words drifted off the page. She could not muster up the urge to the invested in the book when her mind constantly was pulled back into thoughts of the murders.
She set the book down in her lap, and ran her fingers through her hair only to grimace. It was starting to get greasy, and she wondered if she could convince Leonardo to let out of the bed long enough to a bath when the door open. Her head snapped up, and then happy surprise flashed across her face. "Ciana! What are you doing here?" Olivia said, with a bright smile. "I haven't seen you in forever. How have you been?"
Ciana smiled. "Which question would you prefer I answer first?" The former courtesan sashayed into the room in a modest blue dress far from what she used to where. She had a basket that rested on her hip, and shut the door behind her quietly.
"Whichever you like," Olivia said, slightly distracted. A faintly sweet smell curled and caressed her nose prompting her stomach to let out a rather loud growl. Her cheeks dusted pink when Ciana laughed.
"I brought you a special surprise," Ciana said, pulling back the cloth over the basket. She revealed a plethora of food from freshly baked bread, cheese and salomi.
"You are a goddess amongst women," Olivia said, revently. The other woman laughed, but set down on the end of the bed. After spreading the red cloth out across the bed, Ciana started to set about serving the food. "I take it that all is truly well for you? No one has given you trouble over trasnfering the house to you, have they?"
"No. It is not uncommon for a courtesan to come into the means to buy a home. Usually by a lover," Ciana said, using a small knife to cut into the bread. "The most trouble I've been given is just harpies who want the salacious gossip of whom my love could be. They have several theories, each as absurd as the next."
"It amuses you," Olivia said, with a half grin.
"It does," Ciana admitted, readily. "It is interesting to them flutter about like beheaded chickens. Though I did not come here just to tell you about such trivial things, or even to just bring you some nourishment." She reached into the cleavage of her dress, and pulled out a rolled up piece of parchment much to Olivia's amusement. "Luca sends word of his patrols."
Olivia took the parchement, and unrolled it. Her eyes swept over Luca's hasty and messy hand writing. The Butcher remains in his Villa under guards due to his father's scrutiny. He does not hunt tonight. With a frown, she rolled up the parchment slowly and burnt it in the nearby candle's flame. She knew that Rodrigo Borgia would be displeased with Giaordano's nightly activities, for such unsavory dealings could not be brought to light without heavy reprcussion on the Borgia family. She had expected Borgia to step in as much as she feared it. Rodrigo would have Giaordano heavily guarded which would make bringing the madman to justice all that harder.
"You could imagne my shock," Ciana stated, as Olivia nibbled on a piece of cheese like a mouse, "when I heard that the Red Hood had been spotted, but no assassin within sight. I had imagined that you and Ezio were attached at the hip."
"Ezio and I are not attached at the hip," Olivia defended, though her retort fell flat upon her own ears. She just glowered at Ciana, practically daring the other woman to venture down this road.
Ciana sent her a skeptical look, but allowed the matter to drop for now. "You are here because of the madman butchering women, no?" The blonde questioned, her lips dipped downward. "I remember hearing horror stories like that when I was little girl. About mad people that would drag away little children who didn't do as they were told. I knew the world was a cruel place, but this...this is madness."
"I think it's beyond madness," Livvy sighed. "But yes, I am here to help catch the murderer. Hopefully, within the next few days before another victim is claimed, and added to collection."
"From your ears to the saints," Ciana whispered out. "In every dialetti in all of Italy."
Olivia paused, pulling the bread away from her lips. She chewed thoughtfully, and looked at Ciana with growing confusion. "Dialects? You mean there is more than one different language in Italy? It's not just Italian?"
"You...were not aware?" Ciana asked, arching a brow. "But I've heard you speak Tuscan and Venetic. The two are very different in sounds and accents," Ciana said, her brows furrowed in puzzlement as she stared at Olivia with her head cocked to the side. "Are you saying that you don't hear the difference in the words?"
"No," Olivia shook her head, frowning. That must have been one of the reason Niccolò accused her of being a learned woman as well. She must seem fluent in many languages to outsiders, but none of them could guess that she honestly couldn't tell the difference. Her mind just seemed hardwired to understand the words around her. "To be fair, I still thought I was speaking English when I first arrived in Italy."
Ciana sat back with a bemused expression. "Hmph. And when I thought you could not get anymore stranger you surprise me," the blonde stated, with a light laugh. "Is this a future thing? Do people in the future have this ability as well?"
"Nope. Definitely not a future thing," Olivia said, staring down at her plate. She was no longer so hungry. Her life had been fundementally changed the moment she died, and ended up here. She thought that anything could surprise or shock, but here it was. It just reminded that she was outsider in a strange land, and so far from the place that she once called home. "I think it's more of a fucked up Olivia thing than anything else."
Ciana gave her a strange look. "You should not talk in a such a self-depricating way about yourself," she stated, slightly disapprovingly. "You really underestimate yourself. You are far from fucked up as you so delicately stated, and you have done so much good. More than you realize."
Olivia snorted. "You all would have found your way without me," she stated, as if it were a certainty.
"Is that what you truly believe?" Ciana narrowed her eyes, and her mouth set into a firm line. Her greenish eyes were ablazed with shock and more than a little bit anger. "That you played no true part in any of this? Do you imagine that Gaspare's life would be better off being so hapless sheep for the rest of his life? Do you imagine my life would be better?" Ciana shook her head side to side. "For someone who is so emersed in the secrets and underhand dealings of Italia, you are incredible naive when it comes to some things."
Olivia was torn between being offended, and being confusion. "What do you mean by that?" She asked, a brow arched. Her lips dipped downward at the edges, and look at Ciana through a shrewd gaze.
"Gaspare would have likely been killed, slaughtered by other guards for doing the right thing somewhere done the line. You and I both know the man would have fought his superiors if it came down to it," Ciana scoffed, with a roll of eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "As for myself, I would have spent my years wasting away in a whorehouse, and then ushered out of it in a coffin. Madame Paola might be kind, and benevolent and makes sure that her girls earn enough to retire comfortably, but tis not so for the rest of Italy. To step through a bordello's doors is to step into the hands of death itself."
"But you seemed to have done well for yourself," Olivia commented, with a frown.
Ciana smiled, slightly. "Only due to your influence. If it had not been for you, I would have never left Tuscany nor would have I been given an actual home of my own," the blond stated, folding her hands in her lap. "Most women like me, Livvy, end up in the bordello after years and years of having our bodies used and souls chipped away at even as they become husks of what they once were. Death is the only escape that can be offered."
It took a moment for those words to sink, and comprehension dawned upon her face. "I...never realized," Olivia said, softly. "I had always assumed that the life a courtesan was decent enough in Italy."
"It is better here than other places, but not as glamorous and filled with courtly intrigue as the stories like to portray," said Ciana, with a slight smirk. Her expression smoothed out, and she looked vaguely troubled by something. "These murders...I fear for every woman out there. Courtesan, servant, noble...I can't imagine what motivates such a man to do such depravity."
"Murder has many motivations, Ciana. Passion, envy, ambition," Olivia listed off, forcing herself to eat the last bite of bread and chased it down with some wine that was still left in her cup. "These deaths are not so easily explained as those though. They are not motivated by a single one of those, and neither by madness. The murders are very well thought out and execueted. No, this is a type of man not even the greatest minds can understand and if they did, they would probably be driven insane by the answer they find."
Ciana raked a slow gaze over Olivia. "This case has gotten to you, hasn't it?"
"Probably more than is wise," Olivia admitted, on a sigh. "In...in my time, these men and women are known as serial killers. People who are driven by this need to kill in some form or another."
"They are...that common?" Ciana asked, her face paled.
"No. Not exactly what I would call common, but not unheard of," Olivia stated, brushing the crumbs off the blanket and onto the floor. "Where I come from news can be so easily obtained within a seconds notice, and spreads quickly so when an incident like this occurs the killer is can be tracked down. It might take months to years, but eventually they get caught. However, here in this time...news is slow to spread. It is unlikely that many people beyond Florence's walls will even hear of this killer unless it is officials, or guards. The less people that know, the less likely that they will be to be on the look out for this wolf in sheep's clothing."
"I can understand why that is unnerving, but it does not explain why you are so personally effected by this,"
Olivia wrapped her arms around herself, and looked towards the window. "I can understand the templars views, however, misguided they are," Olivia spoke, her voice very soft and quiet. "They have a reason for what they do. A reason I do not support nor will ever in any form agree with, but it a reason nonetheless. Men like this...there is no reason. There is nothing, but this need to watch the world burn. It's senseless, and it unnerves me because I know that no matter how many men or women like this I stop...there is always going to be another to take their place."
"You can't save the entire world," Ciana said, softly. The blonde's shoulders slumped with a heavy breath, and she got up from where she sat. Carefully, she began to pack away what was left of the food, and when she was done she looked up at Olivia with eyes of concerned sister. "I fear for you. Everyday, I fear for you. I wonder what next is going to take you away, and where, and if you will ever come back."
"Ciana," Olivia began, but the former courtesan shook her head.
"Let me finish this," Ciana stated, firmly. "You spend your days giving all you have to the people of Italy, and you are branded as a retrobate for it. Then...whatever you have left you spend it on Ezio, and he will never appreciate that love, Olivia."
Olivia's heart launched into her throat, and she stared in mortified shock at her friend. Denial spilled forth from her lips in the form of stutters and she felt the blush on her cheeks grow hotter as Ciana stared at her flatly. "I'm not...he's not..." She placed her hands over her face, and gave a frustrated sigh. "Ciana, Ezio and I are not lovers. We aren't even close to lovers. Why do you always speak of it like we are?"
"Because you make not have given your body to him, but your soul and heart are already his," Ciana said, with a pitying look. She looked at Olivia as if she were someone who was made up and ready for a funeral. "You would give that man the entire world if it were in your power to do so, and you cannot see the harm in that. You have your life so tightly wound Ezio's that you barely know how to breath without him."
Olivia's heart twisted painful in her chest, and her expression was one of agony. Her fingers curled into fists against the blanket, and a shudder ran down her spine. "I don't know what you think you see, Ciana, but you don't. Ezio and I flirt, but it's harmless," she said, her voice thick. Her eyes felt suspiciosly wet, and she looked every that wasn't Ciana's face. "It's harmless."
"Not for you. Do you think that no one sees the way you look upon him, Olivia? You look at him as if he is the sun and the moon and everything in between. If you cannot find it in your heaert to be honest with me," Ciana said, picking up her basket off of the end of the bed. "At least, be honest to yourself."
And that was the former courtesan's last word of parting. The latch of the door clicked shut, and Olivia was once again left alone in the room. And alone to her thoughts. Ciana's words had hit with all the force a blade to the heart, and Olivia swallowed the hard knot that swelled in the back of her throat. She could not call Ciana a liar, no matter how much her dignity wished her to.
She was in love with Ezio, and that...that just made everything to come so much worse.
After bathing, Olivia had hoped for a blissful sleep. The evening was not met with joy, or blissful sleep. But she was not met with anything blissful, and was instead met with restlessness, and constant thoughts each more troubling than the next. So Olivia spent hours tossing, and turning, with nightmares plaguing her every time she dared to close her eyes. Her heart was repeatly shredded by the truth falling from her lips, a vision of Ezio's angry eyes before a hidden blade glinted in the moonlight right before it entered her chest. Sweat dripped down her forehead as she stared up at the ceiling after being awoken from the most recent nightmare. There was nothing she could do or think of that would rid her mind of the horrifying image. Nothing that could rid her heart of the pain of guilt and rejection she felt.
Olivia sighed, pressing her face miserably against the pillow. After a long moment, she kicked away the blankets and sat up. She placed her feet against the hardwood floor, and flinched for it was like touching ice. Carefully, she rose onto her shaky feet and made her way quietly out of the room. She was extra careful when she passed Leonardo's room. There was no need to wake the worrywart, and end up getting an earfull.
Bracing herself against the wall, she took one step at a time. Her body was still weak from the battle with the poison, but there was a strength in her bones now. While her muscles and organs still felt like they sloshed about and trembled, her bones felt solid and sturdy enough to hold her up. It seemed like eternity until she reached the base of the stairs, and she took one step further. It one step too many because as soon as she took it, she knew she had made a mistake.
Her heart slammed against her chest, and her eyes were riveted to the figure across the room. Ezio looked like some ghostly illusion with the way the moonlight illuminated his white clothing, and had his heels on the table, ankles crossed. He was leaning back in the chair with his fingers laced on his middle, and his chin rested upon his chest. His ebony locks cast a shade upon his face, and hidden it from view. Something about his posture spoke of a deep seeded exhaustion as if he had run himself ragged.
Olivia had worried about facing him the second Leonardo had told her that he was on his way to Florence. Even though she was worried, a back of her was relieved to see him sitting there alive and breathing. A tighteness she hadn't even realized had been around her heart soothed and eased up. She stood there for several moment, unsure of what to do or where to go.
With a soft breath, she chose the path of the coward. She turned slowly, and was about to make her way back up the stairs when Ezio's voice made her freeze in place.
"What are you doing up?"
Olivia nearly swallowed her tongue. She brushed her hair out of her face, and took a second to steel herself before she turned around to face him. His head was tilted towards her ever so slightly, just enough that she could see the glint of his eyes in the darkness. "I...I'm sorry," Olivia apologized, feeling nine kinds of stupid as she stumbled over her words. As much as she missed Ezio, she hadn't exactly been relishing the idea of their reunion after being poisoned. The last time she had been severly hurt, he had attempted to abandon her. She didn't want a repeat of that moment. "I didn't mean to wake you up."
"I was not sleeping. You see, it has evaded me because I'm having many troubling thoughts. Like how the Red Hood could be so foolish to get herself poisoned, and almost get herself killed. That I have to learn this through a letter and show up with her looking like she is knocking at death's door. So tell me Olivia...do you imagine I could sleep?" His voice harsh, and brittle. His arms crossed over his chest went taunt, and his jaw clenched in a way that bespoke of anger that he tightly held in check.
Olivia had never heard him with that tone of voice. At least, never directed at her in such a way, and a coldness settled over her when she realized that he was not angry. He was beyond angry, and a knot of emotion welled up in the back of her throat. "No...I imagine not," she said, quietly. She brushed her sweaty palm off on the back of her white shift, and looked away from him for a brief second. "When did you arrive?"
"Late last night," Ezio stated, calmly. Too calmly. He face was a blank slate, but there was an intense look in those languid golden gaze that made her heart pound for two very different reason. "And you did not answer the question. What are you doing up?" Ezio asked, a reprimand in his words.
Olivia gnawed on her lower lip. "I was thirsty."
Ezio drew in a deep breath, and rolled his shoulders before he dropped his feet to the floor. He rose out of the chair with the inate grace of a predator and grasped the pitcher of water. The water had been drawn from the well only hours before, and was better than nothing else. He poured the water into a cup, and set the cup down on the edge of the table with a clank that seemed to echo through the room. He stared at her, stonily and crossed his arms loosely over his chest.
Olivia would have to be blind to not see the silent challenge there. Her eyes were locked onto Ezio's that glittered in the dark, and she stood there nervously for a moment. Indecision rippled through her bones, but she swallowed down the urge to flee and stepped forward. One step after another until she came to stand right in front of Ezio, with only inches in between them. "Thank you," she said, quietly.
As she sipped her water, Ezio was silent. He towered over her in such a way that made every nerve ending in her body on high alert, and she set the cup down as quietly as she could. She watched his chest expand with a slow and deep breath before his hand reach out. She jolted in place as his palm skimmed across her forehead, surprisingly gentle given his attitude. With wide eyes she looked up at him and her heart fluttered in her chest while his knuckles brushed down across her temple, and lingered on her cheek. Just as she was about to lean into his touch like a touch starved kitten, he pulled his hand away.
"Your fever has broke," Ezio commented, lightly.
"Oh..." Olivia breathed out. "Well, that's good. I was tired of shivering and shaking. I think my teeth chattered so much they were about to fall out," she joked, with a shaky laugh.
"You wouldn't have been sick if you hadn't gotten poisoned in the first place," Ezio glared.
"To be fair, I don't think anyone plans on being poisoned," Livvy retorted, blithely.
"Enough, Olivia," Ezio's voice harsh. "Do not make light of this situation. Do you even care that you almost lost your life? Do you even stop to think about how that would affect those around you? Or did you justify it as a neccissary evil in hunting down this monster?"
Olivia's jaw worked up and down. Her lips pursed together, and she looked away from him stubbornly. "If you think I am make light of anything, then you really don't know me as well as you thought," she stated, her voice hard. Her hands curled into fists, and she stood up from the table abruptly. "I'm tired. I think I should go back—"
"No," Ezio snapped, his hand snatched her arm. He pulled her back towards him, and Olivia made a noise like an angry cat. "No, we are going to finish this."
"Finish what, Ezio?" She demanded, quietly. She raised her chin defiant at his anger, and she looked at him . Emotions that she had been holding down bubbled up to the surface, and she tried to jerk her arm out of his hand. It did not work for Ezio had a vice grip on her wrist, and she got a narrowed eyed look for her attempt. "You want shout? You want to scream? You want to berate me for my stupid mistake? You are too late," Olivia bit out, scathingly. "I have already said it to myself. I've raked myself across the coals of guilt ever since that night. And no, I didn't justify as it a neccissary evil! I was too busy being scared and frightened for that! Damnit, Ezio, do you really think I want to die?"
Ezio's grip slackened with shock over her outburst, and she pulled her hand free, clutching it tightly to her chest. Olivia stared up at him through her eyelashes, and it felt like someone had tore out her heart. Not just tore it out, but twisted it all about then shoved it back in. Her chest heaved up and down as she struggled to somehow regain her composure. "I don't! I don't want to die, Ezio," Olivia's voice broke, and she felt ears well up in her eyes. She turned Being poisoned, and knowing it was partially because I got careless..." Olivia's voice broke, and she felt tears well up in her eyes so she closed them tightly. She turned away from because she couldn't look at him, and she couldn't see what was on his face right. "I was scared, Ezio. There have only been a handful of times I have been that scared, and I saw all my regrets and all the things I have left unfinished..." A shudder ran through her and she wrapped her arms around her stomach. "But...most of all, I was thinking about how much I just wished you were."
Ezio had held tightly to his anger and rage, like holding a hot coal in the palm of his hand. It gave him purpose and strength to rush to Florence, and was easier to hold onto than fear. He held tightly up until very moment where he saw Olivia's bravo falter and he had never seen her look so fragile as she did right now. Not even when she told him about her mother. The anger drained out of him, leaving him exhausted and spent. He raked a hand through his hair, and cursed himself quietly. "Olivia," he whispered out, but she didn't turn to face him.
"I don't want to fight, Ezio," Olivia sighed. "I don't have the energy for another round."
"I'm not going to fight, innamorata. I promise," he said, lightly. He reached out towards her, slowly and gently as if she were a wounded animal that might run off if startled. His rested his hands on hers shoulders and felt her tense beneath his palms. "I'm sorry, Oliva. It was not my intention to speak to you in that manner. I...I got angry because I was worried and afraid. You are such an idominatable force, fearless and headstrong. It is not easy for me to see or hear of you being hurt. It's like being told that the mountains can crumble, and the sea will dry up...unfathomable to think about."
"I'm hardly fearless," Olivia scoffed, lightly. She drew in a sharp breath when Ezio brushed her hair to the side before he gently placed over her shoulder, and it fell down against her collarbone. "I would say you are more fearless than I ever could be."
"Oh, I have many fears, Olivia," Ezio said, sliding his hands down her shoulder blades before he dared to slide them underneath her arms, and wrap them around her to pull her back towards him. His nose brushed against her hair still slightly damp from a recent bath; the scent of lavender and honey wrapped around with all possessiveness of a lover.
It was embarassing how easily she melted into his arms. Olivia felt a contentment washed across her skin from head to toe, and her back pressed against his chest. She each of his breaths as if they were her very own, and felt the last bit of anger that his words had invoked to slip away. "We are pretty pathetic, aren't we?" She said, with a sad kind of laugh. Her hands came up to cradle the arms he had wrapped around her, and she slid them up until her fingers entwined with his. "We get scared or hurt, and then we lash out like lightning in the storm. Fast, harsh, and without mercy."
"We Italians are a passionate people," Ezio commented, with a slight smirk.
"I'm not from Italy, Ezio," she pointed out, with a quiet huff.
"Ah, but you have the heart of Italian, Olivia," he chuckled, his chin fitted into the nook of her neck and her shoulder, his cheek pressed against hers. "And a passion that would put many hot blooded Italian woman to shame."
Olivia snorted, amused. The last bit of tension that evaporated from the room, and . . It would be so easy to get lost in this. To get lost him, and what she was feeling. Her heart ached inside her chest, and she closed her eyes in silent despair. You have no idea what you are to me, and you never can. You are the dream that I never dared to hope for, and a reality that I cannot have. I love you. I love you, Ezio Auditore . Her lips trembled as she thought the words that she would never allow to slip past her lips. But I am afraid of that love because you aren't mine. I am afraid because you don't know the truth about me. I am afraid to tell you all of this, and you leave, and I would be left with all this love and nowhere to put it. So it's better this way. To hold it in tight and pretend it doesn't exist so I don't fall apart when you do eventually leave.
Ezio's arms tightened around her as if sensing her inner turmoil. His brows furrowed, and his lips dipped downward into a frown. He could sense her silently pulling a part of her away from him, and he didn't like that. "Your thoughts are loud, mi cara," he whispered out, quietly. "I wish you would tell me what troubles you."
Guilt twisted viciously in her gut. "I wish it were that easy," Olivia whispered out in reply.
Ezio inhaled slowly, and fought against the disappointment that flooded through him. "If you cannot tell me," he pressed a light kiss to her cheek, and pulled back from her, "then can you at least tell me that there is something that you are holding back?" Strong and purposeful fingers slid out from between hers to encircle her upper arms and pull her around to face. Her head was bowed, and her eyes were downcast as if she were afraid to met his gaze. Gently, his right hand slid underneath her chin tilting it up to meet his.
A small sigh fell from her soft pink lips, and she reached up wrapping her hand around his wrist. Her heart felt torn apart at the look in his eyes. Her heart thumped erractically at the mixture of disappointment and understanding into honeyed eyes that searched her face. He was hurt that she wasn't being open with him, and that killed her. "I don't want to. I don't want to keep things from or have secrets. I care about you more than anyone in my entire life, so please believe me when I say that," Olivia whispered out, tearfully. She needed him to believe, at least that. "Please tell me you believe me."
Ezio's eyes, those mesmerizing and intoxicating gold that never failed to steal her breath were so intense, and it felt like he staring into the deepest parts of her soul. "Always," he promised, his voice was smoky like a good aged scotch and it made Olivia almost unconciously sway towards him. His thumb brushed along her jaw, and he took one step closer. His hot breath spilt across her face, and she felt her own breath hitch in the back of her throat. "You should rest."
"I should," Olivia whispered back. His thumb ran along her chin, right underneath her bottom lip and she swore she heard her knees knock together. Her hand still wrapped around his wrist, gripped so tightly her knuckles were white and her lips quivered when his golden gaze traced them. He looked like he was going to kiss, and there was a part of her that begged for him to close the distance between them. "I really should."
Ezio smiled. The slow kind of smile that promised all kinds of sinful things, and he leaned forward. He watched as Olivia's eyes fluttered closed, and he pressed his lips to her cheek. He allowed his lips to linger for longer than would be consider proper, and when he dared to end it, he felt Olivia go with him as if to prolong it as long as she could. Her reaction validated many things for Ezio, but most of all, it validated that he was not the only one to feel this connection. And he was not the only one being driven mad by it.
"Sweet dreams, Olivia," he whispered out.
Olivia slowly opened her eyes, his kiss linger like a phantom on her cheek and she looked up at him. She knew everything she couldn't say was written in her gaze, and she swallowed down the pain that grew in her chest. "You, too," she said, gently. She gave his hand one last, quick squeeze before she stepped back and put much needed distance from him. "I...see you in the morning?"
Ezio knew that she was half afraid he'd disappear like last time. "I'll be here," he said, with a nod.
Olivia smiled. A true and bright shining smile. "Good night, Ezio," she whispered, making her way back towards the stairs.
Ezio watched her until she was out of sight, and allowed his shoulders to slump slightly. He knew not what to name the feelings he had for Olivia, for they were too many and too great to name. He was possessive, and wanted to protect her even if she would claw and snap every minute of it. She was more than a friend, the label just did not do the woman who had been by him since his father and brothers' deaths any justice. His mother once told him that it was rare to come across something so original that makes one stop and think. Olivia did that for him constantly. She challenged him in ways he never knew he needed to be challenged, and she accepted him on levels that no one else would.
With the grim path before him, Ezio did not know what would come from these feelings. If they would be realized, or would wither given time. He only knew that he wished Olivia would open up and let him in, so they could both try to figure it out. He didn't understand why she held back, but he believed her when she said she didn't want to. With a heavy sigh, Ezio ran a hand down his neck and popped it. He waited for a few minutes before he ascended the stairs himself, and made his way to the guest room that Leonardo offered him.
He had many things to sleep on.
END OF CHAPTER!
Again, I am so sorry. I honestly thought I already updated.
Next Chapter: Ezio and Olivia push and pull, a Fox ends up in a trap, and they are closing in on the murder. A decision is made that could split the Red Hood and the Assassin forever.
RRs are appreciated.