Jessica woke the next morning, out of breath and covered in a cold sweat, trembling in the aftermath of a horrific nightmare which she could not remember. Holding her head, she sat on the edge of the thin straw bed and tried to calm her pounding heart.
She tasted wine on her breath, though not enough to cause her concern. She had not gotten drunk last night. But Elmo had. Remembering her new acquaintance gave her focus, and as the last memories of her nightmare was lost in her subconscious, she rose and prepared herself for the day.
Jessica had taken advantage of Elmo's drunken generosity, and by his coin she had set herself in a room of the inn for the night. For such a disreputable establishment, the quality of the rooms was not entirely abysmal. The morning sun streaked through the window and warmed the small, low roofed room, illuminating the dust particles in the stale air. The smell of sweat, urine and sex had become a feature of the room itself, the walls were lined with cracks and a layer of dirt had set on every surface.
She had slept on top of the scratchy pieces of material which apparently passed for covers, after having seen the questionable stains on the mattress itself. The floorboards were equally unclean, and old spills stuck to the soles of her shoes, the sound of soft material peeling away from the sticky substance making her cringe. In all, it had been suitable for a single night's sleep, but she was eager to leave.
Jessica sighed, watching the dust swirl and fly in the currents of the air. Staring at the wall as she adjusted her dress, she couldn't help but worry about Leonardo, who would wake to find that she had not returned.
He would be concerned but would not take immediate action. He would give her some time before he completely freaked out and called for help, but not long. Her determination to find and question La Volpe had faded overnight, and now she was not entirely sure that hunting him down was the greatest idea. Tugging at the ties of her dress and straightening the dark blue ribbon in her hair, she decided to give it two days, after which she would return home and take her chances with her stalkers.
Jessica had honestly expected Elmo to have taken off during the night, so it was a shock to find him, as she descended into the foul stench of the main room of the inn, sitting at a table waving happily at her.
She climbed over upturned tables and stepped gingerly around snoring patrons, many still hugging bottles half-filled with drink, and sat across from him, returning his lively greeting and laughing in amazement at how he had somehow escaped the clutches of a vicious hangover as a result from his binging the night before.
Elmo ordered a large pitcher of water and breakfast for them both, which was served by a bleary-eyed bar maid whose hair was in disarray and her dress stiff with spilt drinks. They choked down the generally burnt meal, and Jessica watched him carefully, re-analysing him in the morning light. Finding him consistently intelligent, relaxed and sincere, she allowed herself to loosen up. He had stayed, apparently fully prepared to fulfil his promise to help her, and in return, she took the risk of putting an ounce of trust in him.
"So I was thinkin'," Elmo said as he paid the last of what he owed to the barkeep and then moved to hold the door for her as they left, hopefully for good, "I've no idea how we would go about finding you-know-who. My only thought was that we could go from place to place askin' around."
Jessica nodded silently, breathing in the morning air and watching people mill about as the city wakened. The street still reeked but did not seem as ominous in the light of day though the alley she had been frightened out of was in fact, filthier than she first thought. She chewed on the meat of her cheek as she stared at the cat-sized rodents slinking close to the walls and rustling through rotting crates. She would be glad to get away from this place, she thought, glancing back at the White Heart Inn.
Refocusing on Elmo's low but light-hearted Scottish voice, she turned to the large man who walked beside her, "...we could make ourselves bait in the street, wait till we get robbed and then catch the thief and make him talk."
She blinked at him, briefly noting how his orange freckles glowed in the warm morning sun, and then frowned. "You want to let yourself get robbed?"
"Aye. It's no' a bad plan."
"It's a risky one. What if we lose him and he gets away with your money? And what do you mean, 'make him talk'?"
"Fine," he rolled his eyes amiably, walking close and surprising her as he took her arm and wrapped it around his own. "Never mind that plan, then. We'll ask around. Someone has got to know where the Fox can be found."
The morning and afternoon was spent searching in vain, their inquiries having been simply laughed at or met with stony stares. By early evening, the duo found themselves walking streets that were more familiar to Jessica, and which held host to a significantly fewer number of rats. It had become very clear to them that La Volpe was not a man who would be found if he did not want to be. He was greatly feared and respected and there seemed not a person alive willing to betray his location to anyone.
Silently, Jessica admitted that she was relieved to find that there was very little chance of meeting such a man and hoped that his inexplicable interest in her was insignificant and would prove no more of an issue. A part of her laughed at this hope, but was quickly ignored as Elmo took a quick breath and continued his largely one-sided conversation which had begun shortly after leaving the last tavern.
"...So in all, there's my maw, my da, my sister Jenny and my brother Errol. He's the eldest boy so he spent much o' his time at sea. Da would've verra much liked for me to come along but I was the runt of the brood and that made Maw protective. Many an argument was had about whether or not I was fit to work. My maw won, o' course. No surprise, she was a stubborn woman at the best of times. A smart one, too."
He paused at a stall owned by a stout man with an impressive grey beard, and here she waited patiently as Elmo purchased a sizable array of fruit, a small wheel of cheese and a loaf of bread, placing it all within the satchel at his waist. With a wink at her curious expression, they travelled further along the rows of gradually closing market stalls where a small bottle of cheap wine was also acquired. Elmo took her arm and ignored her questions with a conspicuous grin, leading her out of the marketplace and further through the city, leading her ever closer to the destination he had insisted be kept a secret. Jessica found herself leaning into the heat of his body, enjoying his solid presence at her side and the comfortable way he was holding her arm within his own. She could feel the rumble of his voice through her shoulder as he spoke.
"I dinna think Da ever realised how much his wife knew. She was an educated woman, taught by her own maw, who was taught by her maw and so on. When she was ready to teach her own daughter, she found herself with a son to teach as well. Errol used to tease me about my knowin' of the plants and what they could do, and of the stars in the sky and where they could lead ye. But I think truly, he was jealous. While I spent my days with Maw and Jenny in a the kitchen with the warm smell of fresh bread and herbs in the air, learnin' of poisons and cures, and the how tos of readin' omens and constellations to know what the year, month, and day will bring, Errol was working his fingers to the bone learnin' to catch, scale, gut and sell a fish. He'd come home reekin' of the things. Phaw, I hated that smell. I still canna stand the smell of fish, raw or otherwise. Makes my stomach turn."
A dramatic shudder ran through his body, making Jessica chuckle. Elmo was energetic, his large form seemingly always in motion, with his free hand adjusting his belt or playing with the loose thread on his sleeve, while his eyebrows danced on his face and his blue eyes took in everything around him at once. She felt statuesque in comparison, her stiff, dignified form like ice to his flame and she consciously willed her shoulders to loosen as he took a deep breath and continued.
"Maw never much liked it either. She preferred chicken to all else, rubbed through wi' garlic and spice. Jenny learnt to make it just right but I never managed. Most things that Jenny did turned out just right. My dear sister is smart. Smarter than I, to be sure. She has her faults, o' course; she's proud and vain, and she has a sharp tongue that can sting ye for days after the words have left her mouth. But we were close, Jenny and I. She'd not yet married when I left Rome, and of what I know, she's no plans to. She's no' the romantic sort, like Maw."
His heat was lost to her momentarily as he leant away to pick a small white flower from a lush vine which ascended the side of a building and creeped along the wall, over an archway which led to a darkened courtyard. As they passed this entranceway, which dripped with the green vines, speckled with tiny white flowers, Jessica glanced within and for a moment believed she had seen a man dressed all in white standing scandalously close to a young brunette woman, their heads close and their hands holding tight. Elmo's warmth returned as he took her arm once more, blocking her view of the depths of the courtyard and hurrying her along. She pushed the vision aside, thinking it was too dark for her to have truly seen anyone within.
"I could never understand what made her marry my da. He's a good man but he's naught but a fisherman. Maw used to say that a man's worth was no' measured by the things he could do, but by the number of things he could not. The fewer the number the better, and I suppose the number was low in regard to Da. He was no' educated like my mother, but he was good with his hands and he knew how to protect and provide for her. I canna think of a thing she ever asked of him that he could no' or would no' do. I suppose that's what she liked about him."
The man fell silent so suddenly that the loss of his deep accented voice was almost palpable. Shadows stretched across the cobblestones and the chill of the nighttime began to set over the city. Jessica hugged close to his side as he turned down an alleyway, making a beeline for a rather beaten ladder leaning against the side of the building. Detaching himself from her, he held tight to a wooden rung, set his foot upon it, and began to climb. Swallowing in mild trepidation, Jessica followed slowly, her knuckles white on the wood and her joints stiff even as Elmo heaved her onto the tiled roof of the four story building.
Stretching her fingers, the soft skin sore from the abrasive wood, she brushed herself off, unsteady from the height, and looked around.
To say the view took her breath away would not do it justice. The stone buildings and orange tiled roofs of Florence stretched in every direction, the Arno was like a river of light as the sun gleamed off its surface, weaving through the city. Above, the sky was streaked with pinks and purples, and was layered with deep orange clouds which only darkened as the sun lowered in the sky, the fiery orb turning from a bright yellow to a deep red. Barely able to tear her eyes from the scene, Jessica somehow managed to follow Elmo across the tiles to the flat roof of the building adjoining. There Elmo removed his satchel and lowered himself to the stone, where she joined him with a relieved sigh, rubbing her sore legs and stretching the aching muscles in her shoulders and back.
"When I left my family in Rome and came to live in Firenze, it was my maw that I missed first," Jessica watched in silence as he removed their dinner from the bag and laid it upon a shirt he had found tucked within. He didn't look at her as he did so, and she recognised the strain in his voice as one of deep concentration to not lose control of one's emotions.
"I missed her voice and her soft leathery hands, and then I missed Jenny and her red hair and the drawings that she left all over the house. And then I missed the house itself; the house I was born in and the house where I grew up and learned all I know. But once I had moved on from missin' all of these things, you know what was left?" He removed the cork from the top of the bottle of wine and waited a moment before taking a gulp. Staring out at the picturesque view, Jessica doubted that he was truly seeing it, so deep within his own mind he seemed to have receded.
"Even after all this time, I still miss my da. Though he wasn't there for most o' my life, and he barely spoke a word to me when he was, it's his face and his presence alone that I find I miss most of all." Another swig of wine was downed and a bitter laugh escaped his mouth, the darkest sound she had yet to hear from the man. "Isn't that ridiculous?"
"No, it's not," was her gentle reply. He sighed into the wind and offered her the bottle of wine. Her fingers wrapped around the cool glass but she didn't take a drink. Cradling it in her lap, Jessica stared sullenly at the sun as it slid lower in the sky. "My dad died when I was young, and even now that I've been separated from my family, it's still him that I miss the most. But it's not just him." Her eyes lowered and she twirled the bottle in her hands. "It's the lost potential, the memories of him at my birthday and at Christmas that don't exist because he doesn't either. It's the hole in my world where he should be but isn't. I think you miss him most because of the fact that you never really knew him."
Elmo said nothing in response, but she saw that her words had struck something deep within him. In thoughtful silence, they sat and shared their meal as the sun kissed the horizon and then was consumed by it.
Looking to see Elmo transfixed by the sight, Jessica admired the speckles of freckles glowing like embers in the pale of his cheeks. She wondered how much she could trust this man as he shuffled closer to her and began to point out the specks of light which grew in the encroaching darkness of the night sky. His hair tickling her forehead, his unclean breath warming her cheek and his shoulder pressed tight against her own, she listened and watched the squared tip of his finger as it travelled from planet to star, tracing constellations and drawing pictures in the sky.
Jessica was slightly uncomfortable with his proximity, thinking of how they would look to an outsider, but pushed the thought aside. She had long desired to have more than just one friend in the world, as wonderful as Leonardo was, and Elmo seemed a perfect candidate. So long as she made sure not to drive him away with her usual distrustful hostility.
Becoming friends with Claudia and Leonardo had been simple in that she was required by consequence to stay with them for long periods of time, which in turn forced them to fall into conversation and develop a relationship. Elmo, however, had no such obligations toward her, and she was surprised at her sudden yearning to have a friend who had chosen to be her friend and who wanted to be around her for the reason that they truly enjoyed her company, and not because she was their sole option. The thought of rejection by this man frightened her more than she cared to admit and she wished that she could be outspoken and confident and funny instead of her neurotic, reserved and cynical self.
The warning tingle in her left palm appeared only moments before the quiet rustle of material reached their ears.
Then again, she thought, staring at the stars for several beats longer as Elmo turned sharply to the intruder, perhaps there's a good purpose for her caution. Perhaps it's what was keeping her alive in such a time as this.
Even so, it was tiring to be so guarded, and it seemed that the path of safety she had chosen was a relatively lonesome one.
"Marietta. It is time for you to return home." The voice, low and filled with barely contained fury raised goosebumps across her arms and sent a shiver through her bones. Elmo felt it and rose slowly to his feet, offering her a hand to help her to her own.
"Hello, Ezio," she sighed drily, cringing at the ethereal form of the White Hood, still and stark against the night sky. His hood was raised and all but his chin was swathed in darkness. There stood an angel of death if she had ever seen one. "What are you doing here?"
"Ye know each other, then?" Elmo was confused, and clearly unsure about whether or not to treat the newcomer as a threat.
She could feel the White Hood's glare upon them. "Who is he?"
She frowned and stepped closer to Elmo, both to show whose side she was on in this conversation and to comfort herself. "A friend," she replied icily, and reiterated, "What are you doing here?"
"Leonardo asked me to find you after you did not return last night. He was worried you had become lost or gotten into trouble. It appears there was no need for his concern." Though the words were not spoken, she flushed angrily at the suggestiveness in his tone which was emphasized by his gesture to their makeshift picnic which admittedly did appear incredibly romantic. For a moment she wondered if it reminded them of their own evening together, where they had laughed and joked and she had felt more at home than she could remember. She shook the memory from her mind at once with the reminder that this was not the man she had philosophized and shared a drink with. This was the murderer.
"It is late. Say goodbye to your… friend."
She glowered at the order and seriously considered refusing just for the sake of it, but she supposed it would do no good. With an exasperated sigh and a roll of her eyes she turned to Elmo who appeared quite confounded about what had just transpired.
"I guess I'll see you later." She smiled to him as his eyebrows sunk low over his blue eyes.
"But wha' about—" He was cut off with a sharp look. He glanced at Ezio and nodded understandingly.
"Find me tomorrow. At Leonardo da Vinci's."
Elmo frowned and stepped closer to her, lowering his voice and asking with heartfelt concern, "Are ye sure about goin' with this man?"
Her lips stretched in a tight smile as her eyebrows rose and she let out a breathy laugh. "No, I'm not. Goodnight, Elmo. Thanks for today."
She stepped away from her golden haired friend, squeezing his arm shortly in farewell. Turning reluctantly with a final glance at the nighttime view of Firenze, she followed the White Hood down the ladder, grinning at the silhouette of Elmo, standing with his face to the heavens and the stars which shone in its dark embrace.
Awkward, was the correct word to describe walking the darkened streets of Firenze with the White Hood at her side. Though she kept several feet between them, Jessica still felt far too close for comfort to his predatory form. She supposed that in another life the glint of the sword at his hip would have comforted her when walking at this time of night, but as it was, she felt the exact opposite.
Her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her hands rubbing at the bare skin to stave off the damp chill which pervaded the night air, she wondered if the White Hood would ever speak to her again. He had remained silent thus far, and appeared in no mood to converse, though she couldn't say for sure how he was feeling at the moment as his soulful golden eyes were hidden deep within the shadow of his hood.
She thought it best that they didn't speak, for even now, though she was uncomfortable at the sight of his silver blade, and he was a fearsome sight to behold as he prowled in the darkness, a murderer in white, she felt the unmistakable urge to strike up a philosophical or humourous debate like the ones they had shared on that picnic so many months ago. This urge didn't sit well with her, as she had long since decided that he was an immoral fiend and that she hated him, but it was there all the same. She found that she hated him all the more for the fact that she enjoyed talking with him.
"Leonardo was very concerned about you."
She almost tripped on a cobblestone as his richly accented voice reverberated through the empty street. Flushing with embarrassment and a small deal of shame, she refused to look at him as she answered, "I know."
"He cares for you," resounded in the dark a beat later.
She swallowed the guilt in her throat. "I know."
Jessica could almost feel what was coming next.
"Federico cared for you."
The words hung in the air above them like the blade of a guillotine. Her skin heated as her heart quickened uncomfortably in her chest, surging with the chaotic swirl of emotions which filled her stomach and fluttered within her chest.
"As did Claudia and Petruccio and my uncle."
His words were like a dagger twisting deep within her guts. Her teeth clamped hard on her lip as she kept from releasing an inhuman shriek of frustration. As if he knew how his words affected her, he continued with brutal emphasis.
"Everything changed after you left. Federico sleeps fitfully and not for days at a time, rarely leaving his books and barely speaking to anyone. Petruccio's illness returned and he became bedridden several days after you left. Claudia has become ill-tempered and refuses to try and make any new friends—"
"You can't blame all that on me," she snarled.
"And why not?" he snapped, his voice like a whip. Halting in place, he confronted her at last. "When it is you who are to blame?"
She stopped short, turning on him. She didn't know whether she wanted to punch him or vomit in reaction to the news he brought her. "How could I possibly be the reason for Petruccio getting sick? It's not my fault he has a chronic illness. And it's not my fault Claudia is moody, she always has been."
A scornful laugh fell from his lips. "And what of Federico? I suppose it is also not your fault that his heart is broken? That he was left pained and confused and without an answer to his proposal to you?" As he spoke he stalked slowly toward her until she had to raise her chin to look at him. "Tell me how you could possibly be blameless in all of this."
He was close, looming over her and she fought not to take a step back. Glaring up at him, she could feel his enraged pants blowing over her face, and could hear his lungs suck in air through his gritted teeth. Though the shadow shrouded his features, she could now make out the outline of his nose, the curve of his jaw and the burning gold of his eyes.
She flinched from the intensity in his gaze and shook her head at his demand, "He never should've— I was leaving and it was a desperate ploy to get me to stay. Surely he knew what my answer would have been. He shouldn't have asked it at all."
He snarled; a primal sound which made the hairs on her arms stand on end. She could feel the hostility which permeated from him and it didn't take much for his anger to fuel her own.
"He was in love with you! He asked you to marry him so that you would stay and become the part of our family we all felt you already were!"
"Well, I didn't love him! And I'm sorry I didn't make it clearer than I thought I already had!"
"Yes, you should have made it clearer that you did not care for him. Or for any of us, for that matter!"
Jessica's heart was thundering in her ears as her blood seemed to boil within her veins. She had never been screamed at with such passion nor felt such an intense fury in her entire life. She wanted to gouge out his eyes and tear off his skin and rip out her own hair. She wanted to sit on his chest and beat his head in and shake him until he understood why she had run away and why she couldn't explain anything properly. She wanted to curl into a ball and scream until her lungs burst and the world went dark and he would stop shouting at her and she could stop being terrified that any second his retractable blade would spring from his wrist and stab her through her pounding heart.
"That's not what I said! I did care for you! I cared for all of you!"
"Then why did you leave!?"
"Because you're an Assassin!" The intensity of her shriek seemed to tear a hole in her throat, and tears sprang to her eyes as her fingers trembled violently with adrenaline and her head pounded with the beat of a thousand drums. "You, and your uncle and Federico." She coughed when her voice came out as a croak, stepping away from the now silent White Hood.
"I heard you in the gardens that night when Mario told you about your dad. I saw you and the others cheering after you killed Vieri and his men. You were covered in blood and you were all so damn happy about it." A long, shuddering breath entered her lungs and she plead with everything she had that she wouldn't start crying. She realised she must have looked a dreadful sight, and she sounded more than a little unhinged but she found the words came tumbling out, burning through her filters like acid, never minding whether or not they were entirely true, or only a version of the truth.
"I didn't leave because I didn't care about you; I left because you weren't the person I thought you were. I can't trust you, or Mario or Federico. I despise what you are. I left because everything about you repels me. I left because I couldn't live in the same house as murderers. I left because I never wanted to see you, your uncle or your brother ever again!"
The force of her final statement soaring from her mouth made her stumble, and as she steadied herself, she felt that the rage had ebbed with her words, leaving a pit of numb exhaustion in the depth of her chest. She found she could hear again, the sound of the drums fading from her mind as the cooling of her blood allowed her to feel the shocking chill of the night air, the bitter taste of bile and blood in her mouth, and the weakness in her muscles.
Gazing steadily at the White Hood, she simply waited. She watched numbly as he raised his gloved right hand and lowered the hood, revealing a slack jaw, downturned lips and eyes filled with more pain than she ever believed she had the power to inflict. For a long time, the two simply shared a miserable gaze. Jessica realised it was much easier to hate someone, to hate him, when he wasn't standing in front of her looking at her with those mournful golden eyes.
"You think that I am wrong for taking revenge on those who have destroyed my family and taken from us all we have known and loved?" His brow was low over his eyes, which glimmered with emotion. His voice was thick and wet and she knew that if he cried, it was very likely that she wouldn't be able to stop herself from at least attempting to comfort him. "They killed my father. They drove us from our home. You believe me a monster for punishing those responsible?" A short, incredulous laugh burst unenthusiastically from him as he gazed at her imploringly. "Can you not understand all I have lost? Why I need to do this?"
It was easier to hate him when he was glaring at her, ignoring her, screaming at her. This was much harder to deal with. Her mind found it difficult to keep the White Hood and Ezio Auditore in the same space. He was a self-confessed murderer. She hated him and everything he did and would continue to do. He was not her ally and he was not her friend.
Yet now, his hood was down and he had revealed to her his face and the golden doorways into his mind, which flickered with his incredibly profound emotions. Why did she not simply storm away and order him to never come near her again? Why was it that the slump in his shoulders made her step closer to him? She had finally spoken her thoughts of him, so why did she suddenly want to take them all back?
Swallowing hard, Jessica frowned at the man who had stalked her dreams and filled her darkest terrors, and who she now had the deepest urge to console.
"I understand," she said softly. "Believe me, I do. But killing is not the answer. Are those responsible really the only ones who find themselves on the end of your blade? What about the guards you get out of the way to reach your target? How many husbands, brothers and children have you taken from families just like your own, in the name of your revenge? What makes you think that your right to vengeance is of greater worth than the lives of those innocent men just doing their jobs?"
As Ezio stared at her, she knew her words had hit home. She also knew that they would make very little difference. Ezio was committed to his life as an Assassin, and no amount of guilt-tripping or screaming would change that. She now had to admit that she didn't, or couldn't, hate Ezio Auditore as much as she wished she did. But that wouldn't change anything on her part, either.
Jessica sighed, turned and walked away, hugging herself against the cold dampness of the night.
"I'll find my own way home."
Ezio didn't follow.