"The best is yet to come." – Frank Sinatra.
It didn't take long for them to get swept up in the stunning chaos that was Venice.
The sights, the sounds, the smells and the presence of so much water seemingly everywhere they turned was at first overwhelming, but in time they came to know the city and its people. Jessica had never thought about Italians having different accents, but the difference in pronunciation of certain words was quite different from what she was used to in Florence. The clothes worn by the Venetians were darker than the Florentines, who had preferred lighter shades of green, orange and pink, and the hairstyles were impossibly more extravagant. Venice, she learned, consisted of five districts: San Polo, the merchant district – and where Leonardo's Workshop was situated; San Marco, the administrative district, Dorsoduro, the artist district, Castello, the military district, and Cannaregio, the working class district.
It was a beautiful city, filled with countless hidden courtyards and easily missed alleyways which led to streets filled with doors, or bridges whose iron railings had been overtaken by thick green vines. Indeed, there was greenery to be found on every corner and on the sill of every window, far more than Jessica expected to find in a city in which the buildings were built so tightly together. She admired the colours blooming in the gardens, eager to the be the first buds to flower in the slow coming spring; snow still coating the ground well into April, much to the outrage of many a citizen.
Jessica spent her first weeks helping Leonardo in his efforts to employ several young men to assist him, a task which went unusually smoothly, as well as getting herself settled in her new home. She found this also strangely easy. Elmo was given the room next to her own, finally moving in with them and in her mind, becoming an official member of the family, a place he had earned long ago. Three other rooms were situated on the upper level of their home; Leonardo's room –which was already a mess-, a private study –which was brought to use by Elmo, whose passion for astronomy and the concocting of potions had been reignited after he had sent and received letters to and from his family in Rome – and a guest room.
Jessica loved to sit in Elmo's study, observing and listening to the blonde Scot as he explained the uses and dangers of various plants and animal parts, and read the stars and phases of the moon which shone brightly through the large window on the back wall. The room smelled heavily of incense, smoke, and what she suspected was drugs of a more recreational nature, though Elmo would never admit it. As she spent time with her friend, flicking through the books which slowly accumulated on the shelves on either side of the window and gazing in wonder at boiling cauldrons of strange smelling, colourful mixtures, which all ended up packed into vials and jars of various sizes and stored in the enormous locked cabinet which covered the right wall of the study, she began to have a very peculiar inkling that Elmo's mother may very well have been a witch, and that perhaps Elmo was too. The idea wasn't exactly implausible, considering all she had seen and all she knew. In fact, notion that Elmo wasn't entirely normal made her feel closer to him than ever.
Downstairs was the vast space which was the workshop, its walls lined with bookshelves, the floor decorated with rugs, several large wooden tables sitting upon them, and three incredibly comfortable armchairs surrounding a low coffee table just in front of the extravagant fireplace. The kitchen and the toileting and bathing areas, all much larger and of finer make than those found in the workshop in Florence, were through the hallway to the left of the stairs. In all, the place was clean and bright and spacious, and absolutely perfect for their needs. Moving to Venice proved to be like slipping on a glove; it fit them well.
Though Leo had been employed to paint the Conte de Pexaro a total of five family portraits, a commission which would take many months to finish, the artist proved to have very little interest in even starting, preferring to instead focus on the flying machine which had been built and rebuilt time and time again. He began many drawings, paintings and inventions but ultimately they were all left unfinished, as per usual. And so their lives continued.
On a warm day in early summer, Jessica and Elmo went to the Venetian Markets, bitching about a particularly useless assistant as they strolled through the stalls, filling the basket on her arm with provisions for their pantry.
"I swear if tha' idiot confuses poppy seed oil with linseed again, I will kill him."
"Better that he confused one oil with another. I thought Leonardo was going to rip his head off when he gave him water instead of copal."
"I wish he had. I would have gladly disposed o' the body."
"I just don't understand why Leo hasn't dismissed him."
"He probably thinks he's too pretty to be rid of."
"That's still no excuse to put up with such incompetence."
"And yet here you are."
She hit him, laughing. "Stronzo."
"Ah, they don't have it here."
"What?"
"Leonardo asked me to get one o' those small wooden dolls."
"Like the one he broke the day he bought it?"
"The same."
"Well, you go find it and I'll go on ahead," she told him, adjusting her hold on the full but not too heavy basket.
"Are ye sure?"
"Yeah, you catch up when you're done."
"Va bene. Take care."
The duo went their separate ways, Elmo disappearing quickly into the thick market crowd as Jessica politely shoved her way out of it before getting her bearings and heading toward home. She hummed to herself as she walked the streets with ever growing confidence, taking satisfaction in the recognition of shops and street corners which she used as landmarks to guide her back to the workshop. The sun was warm in the sky, and the marketplace had been crowded. Jessica wiped at the sweat on her forehead, grimacing as she tasted the salt on her upper lip.
A hand suddenly wrapped around her arm, and Jessica recoiled violently, nearly dropping her basket in her fright, but the hand was strong and it held her steady. Heat pounding in her chest, but assuring herself she was fine as she stood in the middle of a populated street in what was considered a better part of the city, she looked at the offending hand on her arm and was shocked to see that it quite obviously belonged to a woman. Following the arm up, she was met with the delicate features of a young woman with short, dark hair tucked into a grey cap, wearing a dirty white shirt beneath a loose, oversized vest, and pants with bandages wound tightly around her right thigh. The woman tugged at Jessica, forcing her to keep moving, and limping along beside her, leaning heavily upon a crutch. Jessica stared at the strange woman in wary confusion.
"Keep walking," came the rich Venetian accent. "The man behind us is following you. He watched you leave the marketplace and has followed you this far."
Eyes widening, Jessica glanced quickly over her shoulder, but could not see the man the woman was referring to amongst the crowd of strangers. Turning back she slowly relaxed in the woman's hold, allowing her arm to be entwined with hers as they walked together like old friends.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her knuckles white on the handle of the basket.
"My name is Rosa," the woman replied, a calm smile on her face. "And yourself?"
Jessica hesitated before answering. "Marietta."
"Where are you going?"
"Home."
"Is it nearby?"
"No," she answered, confused and suspicious. She looked over her shoulder once more and tried to pick out the man who was apparently stalking her, half expecting to see a white hood amongst the sea of darkly dressed Venetians.
"Bene."
And suddenly they were making a quick turn down a small alleyway, which led to another, and another and very quickly, Jessica found herself completely lost in the labyrinth of Venetian streets, guided only by the woman on her arm, who tugged her firmly along.
"Where are we going?"
"He follows you still. It is dangerous for one with such a pretty face to walk alone."
"This is coming from you."
"You think me pretty?"
Jessica let out a soft laugh in response, for the woman was beautiful, with dark eyes and soft skin. "Not to sound ungrateful," she panted, growing tired from their fast pace across uneven streets and rickety bridges, and dizzy from the many twists and turns, "but why are you helping me?"
"Because you needed me. Women must protect women. Nobody else is going to."
"You don't even know me."
"It is my duty as a woman to look out for you, as it is yours to look out for me. The battle between men and women has been waged since the beginning of time, and it shall continue until the end of days. There are good men in this world, but we must not wait for them to do something if we can do it ourselves. We must stand together or not at all."
This was a very noble speech, one that Jessica agreed wholeheartedly with, but she didn't know this Rosa, and she had absolutely no idea where she was or where the woman was taking her, so needless to say, she had other things on her mind that came before discussing feminist issues with a stranger.
They stopped at last, stepping out onto a main street and slipping into the current of the crowd seamlessly. Rosa looked behind them and let out a noise of satisfaction.
"I believe we lost him. Come, I will walk you home."
Jessica was surprised to see that they were almost in the exact spot they had begun. They walked, arms still linked and Jessica in a sort of daze, through the marketplace and toward the workshop. She thought she should start a conversation with the woman who had potentially saved her life, but Rosa looked content in the silence and Jessica had no idea what to talk about, so in the end she chose to remain quiet.
She released a sigh of relief as they arrived at the familiar white door of her home.
"This is me. Thank you, Rosa." She smiled, still slightly bewildered, as the woman slipped her arm out of her own, stepping away and returning the friendly gesture.
"No need to thank me. Try not to get yourself in too much trouble in the future, eh?"
Jessica laughed and nodded in farewell. And then, blinking, she watched the young woman shoot her a wink then turn and limp away. Staring after her until she disappeared into the crowd, Jessica shook herself, adjusting her grip on her basket and wondering if that had just happened. Shaking her head, she went inside, never forgetting the strange girl who had crossed her path.
In a city in which hundreds of thousands of people lived, it was against all odds that Jessica would come across Rosa again, and yet it was less than a month later that she did just that.
Jessica was sitting in the sun in the square outside her house, driven outside by the presence of Ezio Auditore sitting in her chair by the fire where he had been since early morning, apparently having a day off from causing murder and mayhem. She was bent over her journal, drawing a flower which, against all odds, had bloomed out of a crack in the middle of the path, when the young woman suddenly sat beside her. After a brief moment of shock, Jessica opened her mouth to greet her but before she could make a sound, Rosa had begun to speak.
"I met someone. A man."
Jessica waited a beat. "...Okay?"
Rosa hadn't looked at her, instead leaning against the wall behind them, her cap high on her head as she stared up at the bright blue skies, her crutch leaning against the bench between them. "He's tall and dark and handsome, with the most incredible eyes," she sighed. "He's fast and strong and he saved me. He's a good man. I haven't met many of those."
She fell silent after this and Jessica stared at the short haired woman with silent and somewhat irritated bewilderment for a long while, waiting for her continue. Jessica counted to two hundred and then sighed impatiently, turning back to her drawing. Just as the tip touched the pencil she was interrupted again.
"But he's so infuriating. He's beautiful, and he knows it. But his arrogance is alluring. And his hands..." Rosa let out a slow breath, her eyebrows raised as she imagined, what Jessica assumed, was a rather nice pair of hands.
Realising that the woman had no intention of leaving any time soon and that she had no hope of being left to herself, ever, Jessica closed her journal and held it and her pencil on her lap, drawing in a steadying breath and turning her body toward the strange woman who had decided to pour out her heart to her, giving her full attention.
"And he's so tall and big and he makes me feel so wonderfully small, like I could just curl up in his arms and stay there forever."
"Who exactly are you talking about?" Jessica would be the first to admit that she was out of practice when it came to girl talk, not that she had ever been great at it. Claudia had been the last female friend she had had and she had not had a conversation face to face with her for years, and even then she couldn't remember them ever discussing men. She wondered why Rosa had sought her out for this; surely she had her own friends she could talk to? Was this part of the whole 'women look out for women' thing Rosa had declared as her duty? Whatever the reason, the woman had sought her out for a reason and considering how she had looked out for her in the market, it was the least that Jessica could do to lend her an ear, as reluctant as she was to do it.
"A charming man from across the sea."
"Does this charming man have a name?"
Rosa grinned and shook her head. "It is a secret."
Jessica narrowed her eyes at her and chuckled good naturedly, if with a little strain. "Let's call him Steve, then."
"Steve?" Rosa giggled, visibly excited now that Jessica had apparently taken an interest. "Alright. Oh, but you should see him!"
For the next half-hour, Jessica patiently sat and listened to the younger woman gush and rant. Though Rosa was small and relatively young, she had a fiery personality and a passionate soul, and Jessica had no doubt that her every emotion was felt deeply and unreservedly. She rather envied the smooth skin and the silky dark hair, her delicate features and slight form, and especially the way her brown eyes shone with fervour as she spoke of the man who had caught her attention and who was obviously worming his way into her affections. In a simple dark green dress with her long, unruly hair tied messily behind her head while defiant strands fell about her face, Jessica felt rather plain beside the uniquely beautiful and outspoken Rosa.
Having such a lengthy conversation with another member of her sex proved strangely cathartic though it was largely one-sided and at times, exasperatingly repetitive and, surprised as she was at how much she was enjoying their talk, she was thoroughly irritated when they were interrupted by a courier who smiled at her rather disarmingly before handing her an envelope with Claudia's familiar scrawl across the front. As he left, and Jessica stared curiously at the sealed letter in her hands, wondering at the timely coincidence, Rosa stood, and Jessica quickly followed, wondering if she had done something to offend her. But she was startled to suddenly find herself in the smaller girl's tight embrace, and she patted her awkwardly on the back until Rosa freed her with a grin.
"Thank you, Marietta. I needed to get that off my chest. You are a wonderful listener."
Still confused and rather annoyed about the whole thing, she smiled tightly, "Any time."
"I will see you later."
There was a strange heavy feeling in her chest which lingered long after she had sat back down on the bench, sighing to herself as she was finally left to her own company. Jessica nearly forgot about the letter she had received until she reached out to pick up her pencil and realised her lap was already full. Then with eager anticipation she tore it open and drank it in until she came upon a line which shocked her so greatly that she took a quick, unexpected breath and was reduced to a coughing fit as her windpipe was filled with saliva.
Throat stinging and eyes watering, she rushed across the square and flung herself through the pale door, getting a hold of herself as she stood on the landing inside the workshop, wildly waving the letter in the air.
"Marietta, what's wrong?"
At her sudden entrance Ezio had leapt to his feet, his entire form tense and on alert. His white robes had been put aside, and he was left in his black pants and a white shirt with loose sleeves that pulled in at the wrists, beneath an expensively embroidered black vest with dramatic shoulders. His dark hair was held back by a red ribbon, his face clean shaven and now pulled into a dangerous expression as his golden eyes fixed on the door which was presently swinging shut behind her, searching for pursuers.
Usually, Jessica would be both frightened and disgusted by the change in him, and furious at herself for the traitorous thoughts which crossed her mind when she saw how deliciously broad his shoulders were in relation to his waist, and how well his pants fit him. As it was, she saw noticed none of this and, skipping down the stairs and across the workshop floor to stand before them, Jessica thoroughly shocked both men by fixing Ezio Auditore with a stunning grin that made his heart skip a beat and his mind go blank in the moment it took for her to give them the news.
"What?" he heard Leonardo ask as he shook himself, forcing his ears to pay attention to her words.
"They're coming for Christmas! They've bought a house and everything!" She beamed with excitement as Ezio's mind tried to register what exactly it was she was telling him. Leonardo made a confused sound behind him.
Staring at the two men before her, Jessica shook her head and made a noise of exasperation before she drew in a deep breath, stared at Ezio with green eyes gleaming with a humour he hadn't seen in years, and with a smile on her lips she told them slowly;
"The Auditores are coming to Venice."