Part Two

Chapter 10

Jennifer Hernandez:

There's music playing.

Somewhere off in the distance, musicians strum and tap and blow out chimes so soft they bring a smile to my face as we spin. Arms lock together, we twirl and dip and dance to the beat of a song neither of us knows. Whether the steps are in sync to the beat of the music floating around us or not doesn't matter. We even laugh when we trip over our own feet and bump into each other.

Something sweet passes my lips as we spin, the contents of the cup pressed to my lips only just managing to stay in its cup.

"That's so good."

My words are a mumbled slur when Ken pulls the cup away to take a drink of his own. Elsewhere, the beat of the song changes, tempo speeding up as Ken spins me past a group of curious onlookers. Not that we're the only ones dancing.

At some point, many more bodies have joined us, taking the lead of the dance. Together we all spin and move to the beat of the song. Those that don't join the dance, clap in time to the song, cheering us on as the beat quickens yet again, racing to the finish.

How any of this even started is beyond me.

The wind rushes past us, blowing both the skirts of my dress and my hair back. Following the lead of the other dancers, I step back, unlocking my arm from Ken's as I do. Together with the other dancing women, we dance in a wide circle, switching partners every few beats. Though, not too long later, I find Ken again, locking arms with his one last time.

The beat quickens yet again, changing to signify the end. As a group we spin, skirts and hair and capes flaring when the beat crashes, pulling us all to a sudden stop. The last lingering note is the one we bow to, chests heaving as we do.

Cheers erupt around us. Children duck and weave through the crowd, their giggles floating around us like music of its own. With a bright smile and red cheeks, Ken lets out a laugh, deep and rich as he wraps his hands around my waist and lifts.

"Ken!"

My shriek is ignored by everyone as the next song starts. Still laughing, Ken spins us once before placing me back on my feet. That he has to hold me steady is a given. The alcohol still sits heavy in my veins, muddling my thoughts and making the edges of my vision fuzzy but no less bright.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I think I like dancing," Ken says, word slurred enough to make me wonder how he didn't drop me. Neither of us has stopped drinking long enough to sober up, of course. Not when the wine has suddenly started to taste sweeter than I thought it ever could.

"That's 'cause you're drunk, Ken," I remind him, taking his hand as I do. I lead him away from the dance before either of us can get sucked in again. Ken only laughs at my words before he takes the lead.

Hands still locked together he leads me down a row of merchant stalls, pausing only when he sees my eyes lingering on one or the other. Together we browse through what I only just realize is a Market. The music continues in the background, the lingering dancers spinning to its beat.

Did we start that?

"Hey, Ken?" I call, turning towards him as the fog of alcohol in my mind makes it impossible to remember if the dancer had always been there, but I don't find him. My hand is empty, no longer holding his. Instead, a figure sits in it, thick and heavy. "Ken?"

It's bright white and made of marble.

The figure it depicts is that of a woman. All smooth curves, delicate, and soft but there's a fierceness in her gaze. No, this isn't a woman, sensitive and fragile. This is something more.

This is a goddess.

Beautiful. Graceful. Gorgeous and perfect in every way. With a narrow nose and plump lips. The features of her face are all sharp angles and straight lines. The helmet on her head only adds to her beauty. Fitted to wrap around and hug her face. Adding to the sharpness of her features and ending in a long veil that drapes behind her.

Juno.

The sculpture slips from my fingers in slow motion, crashing to the ground just as slowly as the world focus back in with a clarity so sudden it hurts. Somewhere around me someone curses and yells as the sculpture splinters and shatters. The ruined remains scattering across the ground as the world bursts into flames around me.

They swallow me whole, turn the air in my lungs into smoke as I struggle to breathe. The air goes hot, stifling as the screams start. The fire grows hotter as the screams get louder. The crackling and blistering fire competing to drown out everything even as something in me screams too.

It's not real. It's not real.

I'm awake. I know I am. Juno can't reach me unless I'm asleep, right? Yet the fire continues to burn, searing my skin until it bubbles and melts. If a scream leaves my lips, I don't know. I can't hear it over the roaring of the flames and sizzling of my flesh.

"Jen!"

The yell of my name is the only sound I recognize as it all goes horribly wrong.

~oOo~

Ezio Auditore da Firenze:

"It is so rare to see you in Forlì, Leonardo."

Caterina's voice is as soft as it is inviting, but he's only half-listening to it. Uninterested in the idle small talk, he fiddles with his cup of tea and desperately wishes it was wine. Not because he wants to get drunk enough to lose his inhibitions, but if only to make this whole meeting go by faster.

Teatime usually means sitting around, chatting until the piping hot water cools enough to drink. He's never had the patience for tea. Not even in his youth when noble etiquette had been drilled into him, and being able to sit through formal gatherings, sipping tea, had been expected of him.

But that was a lifetime ago.

Back in the days before greed could destroy his family name and take everything from him. Back when he could roam the streets and flaunt his family name like the noble he was. During the days when teatime meant long, yet no less pleasurable, talks with his mother, savoring the flavor of tea imported from distant lands.

Back when everything was so much easier.

Now, as a fallen noble turned notorious Assassins, he's been able to avoid most of these too long meetings. No longer forced to sit and sip tea, he's lost all taste for it, preferring a glass of wine or a strong cup of ale to take the edge off.

That he much rather get back to their travels than sit around sipping tea is also a given. Had it not been because this is Caterina, he would have rejected the invitation for tea. But, because it is Caterina, the Duchess of Forlì herself, he can't really afford to be rude.

So, he sips his tea slowly, struggling to savor the flavor of it, and answering politely whenever the conversation is turned his way. As it is, Caterina's attention seems to be solely on Leonardo today, questioning how life in Venice has been treating him.

Leonardo answers each question in detail. Delving into stories of his many customers and their most ridiculous requests. More than once, Caterina can't contain her laughter, enjoying the stories as much as Leonardo seems to enjoy telling them.

It startles him the first time, the sounds of Leonardo's laughter. It's soft but no less strong. A deep belly laugh that fills the room, bouncing off the stone walls and coaxing out a laugh from Caterina as well. It eases something inside Ezio to hear it. Pulls some of the tension from his shoulders and sweetens the tea that passes his lips.

And when Leonardo looks his way, a wide grin on his face, bright blue eyes crinkling at the edges, Ezio can't stop the smile that pulls at lips. Time moves slower then, pleasurably slower as he finally actively joins the conversation, telling non-assassin stories of his own.

Maybe this isn't so bad.

"Duchess Caterina?"

Of course, that's when one of Caterina's maids rushes in, nervousness pouring from her as she twists her fingers with her hands. Her eyes flick to them constantly, the worry in her eyes only increasing as Caterina takes her time to address her.

"This interruption best be worth my time."

"My apology, Duchess," the maid says, bowing politely even though her gaze continues to stray to them. Something about those glances pulls all the tension back into his shoulders. "I simply thought to inform you that Sir Leonardo's servants have left."

"Left?" Ezio asks, shooting out of his chair before he can think to stop himself. "What do you mean they left?"

"My apology, Sir Ezio, I have no idea where they have gone."

The maid leaves then, dismissed by some order form Caterina that Ezio doesn't quite catch as he turns to Leonardo. If there's worry etched into his face, it only grows when he sees it isn't mirrored in Leonardo's own.

"We must go find them."

"I am sure they will be fine, Ezio," Leonardo tries to soothe even as he stands to follow leads. "How much trouble could they possibly get into in a place like Forlì?"

"Oh, you have no idea."

~oOo~

Jennifer Hernandez:

"This is your fault."

I don't even bother to whisper the accusation. It comes out loud and clear for anyone to hear over the rattle of the heavy chains that bite at my wrist. Ken turns a glare my way, his own chains resting just as heavily on his wrist.

"My fault?" Ken balks, glare never leaving me even as he's yanked forward by the chains. They twinkle as we move, chiming almost prettily as guards push and shove us through a crowd of angry, shouting onlookers. "You're the one that dropped a 'priceless' statue and assaulted a knight."

"He called me a courtesan and offered to buy me off you," I remind him and, if the chains weren't sitting quite so heavy on my wrist, dragging them down, I would have shrugged too. The heavy fog of alcohol is back in my mind. It's pleasant and numbing enough that chase away the lingering memories of flames and makes it so that the chains don't hurt too badly. Though, I still winch as every tug of the chains continues to sink them deeper into my wrist. "Besides, all I did was kick him."

Bruised and sore wrists, here we come.

"In the balls, Jen. You kicked one of Forlì's knights in the balls," Ken tells me like I might have forgotten just who had the audacity to call me a whore. Of course, I haven't, not when the 'crunch' of his jewels and sound of his yells had felt so satisfying. "Caterina is definitely going to kill you now."

"He offered you fifty florins!" I yell, indignation flaring in me again just at the thought. Fifty! Only fifty? There is no way in hell that I'm only worth fifty florins. That slimy, son of a… "I think I would be worth two hundred florins at least."

All the guards stop around me at the yell. They halt as one of them turns to stare at me in appraisal. He's tall, taller than the rest, and bulky from the layers of clothing and armor. His face is fully visible even under his helmet, revealing a short, kept, dark brown beard, and glittering blue eyes.

He's probably the leader here.

Wait? Does he know English, or have we been talking in Italian?

"She is not wrong," the guard finally says after a long silence. His words come out thick and accented. Heavy with Italian undertones that make the words sound almost too thick to understand even as they're said in my own language. "I even know of some who would pay more for her."

"Oh well, see. Thank you," I add in almost as an afterthought as I look at Ken with wide panicked eyes. That my words come out just as panicky is not something the guard misses either. Ken's own eyes are uneasy when they meet mine. No doubt he's going back to our previous conversation to see if we said anything too incriminating. "Look, Ken, some of them know English."

"Most do," the guard says, words no longer accented. He's speaking in Italian now. I know he is since my thanks to him will have no doubt come out in Italian because I was addressing him. "This is a bit of a tourist town, what with it being on the way to Venice, so we know quite a few languages."

It seems once we engage with someone, the language translator switch in our heads is flipped. Whatever the switch is, that is. As it is the angry yelling around us still refuses to make sense. Though that could be because they're so much of it. Making it all jumbled and intelligible shouts of truly upset individuals.

"I may have kicked him," I say, turning my attention back to Ken just as we start forward again. The guards holding our chains yank us forward once more. Impatient with our stop, one even goes as far as to shove me from behind, snickering when I stumble into Ken. "But I'm not the one who decked him flat in the face and knocked him out. You almost killed the guy."

"He called you a whore."

If we weren't in chains, I'm sure heart-melting gratitude would have filled me at the words. As it is I can only balk at him and raise my hands to indicate the wrists. My kicking isn't what got us chained up, after all.

As a female in this era, assaulting a guy would have earned me a beating at the most. A slap or two definitely, but not chains and imprisonment. As it was, the other guards had only laughed as I brought him down, mocking him for allowing a puny woman to bring him to his knees, but no one had rushed me.

Seen as someone weak and defenseless, I wasn't a threat enough to arrest. Much less imprison for kicking someone, knight or not. Women just aren't worth that hassle in this era. No, we hadn't been arrested, at least not until Ken had taken a point-blank shot to his face.

There had been the satisfying 'crunch' of his nose breaking before the guards had swarmed us.

"You have issues with assaulting people who offend me," I tease him, holding him back when he glares at the guard who shoved me into him. The guard spits out a curse at us, insulting us and our mothers just in time for us to get yank forward again. "Not that I mind it too terribly, but please try not to get us arrested next time."

Ken doesn't reply to that, just huffs in annoyed agreement as the guards finally clear a path through the angry onlookers enough to pull us through. With one last shove from the guard, I stumble out into the open streets, the crowd still yelling behind us.

"Why the hell are they so offended?"

No one answers my question. They all go quiet as the now parted crowd reveals someone I never thought I'd dread facing. Shrinking back, it's only another rough shove that keeps me from melting back into the crowd. That and the chains still on my wrist, of course.

"Kenneth!"

"Hey look, Ken. It's for you," I tell him, diving behind him even though those burning, brown eyes turn my way at the words. The guards stutter to a stop then, no longer yanking the chains as they find their way blocked not only by one person but by three.

One of which is very angry and the other very disappointed. The last one just watches use with unhidden curiosity. Watching me try and fail to hide behind Ken.

"Jennifer."

"And now it's for you too," Ken mocks, stepping out of the way to reveal me. The guards part in front of us, awkwardly shuffling to the side as the guard who spoke early moves to the front. He bows as soon as he does, going so far as to drop to one knee.

"Duchess Caterina, how may we serve you?"

"Captain Raoul," Caterina greets, her voice just as curious as the look on her face when she moves towards us. "Tell me, why are these two in chains. What crimes have they committed?"

"They attacked one of our men," the guard says, lifting out of his bow to join Caterina in her approach towards us. Though he makes sure to stay a step behind her. She looks us over as she gets closer, assessing and searching until she stands before us. It takes a lot not to flinch away from her gaze then.

"They have no weapons," Caterina points out as she turns back to the guard. "Surely they did not kill someone, defenseless as they are."

"You are correct, Duchess," the guard easily agrees. "But the knight was severely hurt. Surely some form of compensation must be in order."

"You obviously do not know just who you have in chains," Caterina replies hand coming out. I don't know what she's asking for, but the guards do. Almost instantly a key is placed in her hand. Rather than undo the chains herself, she passes the key to the figure who appears next to her. "These are very important friends of mine, Captain Raoul. Surely compensation could be decided upon without the need for chains."

"Yes, of course, Duchess Caterina," Raoul says, something like an apology in his voice as someone comes to undo our shackles. "It would seem we were a bit hasty in our actions."

"Fear not, Captain Raoul," Caterina says, her voice not the least bit comforting as she turns her back to the man. She dismisses him without another word, letting him and his men scamper off quickly, taking the chains and shackled with them.

I rub my sore wrist as soon as they're free, hoping to ease the bruises I can feel coming and giving myself a reason not to look our rescuers' way. That it's Leonardo and Ezio is a given but I almost wish it wasn't when the disapproval on their face only deepens the longer they watch us.

Ken doesn't give himself that excuse of not looking. Shoulder hunched and head lowered he peers up at Ezio with sad green eyes as Ezio all but rushes towards us now that the guards have left.

"What were you two thinking?" Ezio asks as soon as he's on us. He takes Ken's wrist, pulling back the long sleeves to reveal the bruised and battered skin. With Ken's skin being shades lighter than mine, the bruises stand out twice as much, the skin red and angry and blood pebbling from where the shackles have cut in just a bit too deep.

"I'm sorry."

It's all we have to say, and maybe it's the alcohol still muddling my brain and blurring my vision but the look in Ezio's eyes seems more sad than concerned when he stares into Ken's eyes. Something like guilt fills them then, as Ken's eyes turn to Caterina and then back to Ezio.

Oooh.

Today's events were brought about by more than just alcohol-induced boredom, I remind myself as I continue to massage my wrist. Many more events had fueled Ken's short stint on the wild side, and I'm reminded of it when Caterina saunters up to Ezio's side and looks down at us with her beautiful, blue eyes.

"Your servants could use a bit more lessons in etiquette," she comments, nonchalant even in her critique. "I think it is best that we end our meeting here, lest these two bring about any more trouble. You there," she calls to one of her maids. "Have someone at the stables prepare one of our best horses for our guest."

The maid rushes away with a quick, "Yes, Duchess."

"You are quite right, Duchess Caterina," Leonardo agrees, taking her hand in his to make his goodbyes. "As always, it was a pleasure to keep your company."

"The pleasure was all mine, Leonardo. Please do not hesitate to visit more often," she tells him, giving him a smile that seems more genuine than I expect. It softens her face, makes her eyes twinkle with something like fondness as Leonardo places a kiss to her knuckles. "The same goes for you, Ezio. Do not be such a stranger."

"I will try my best, Duchess Caterina," Ezio replies, his words formal and polite in the presence of all the civilians still lingering about. He takes her hands when she offers it and places a kiss to her knuckles. "May we meet again soon."

No more goodbyes are said after that. Before I know it, my still fuzzy world changes with me having no real idea of when it happened. When it clears enough for me to center back into the world, I'm on my horse. It's golden hair shinning hair softly under the lights of the setting sun.

The whole world has turned shades of soft reds and golden-oranges, by the time all the alcohol we've managed to consume has decided to finally stop wreaking havoc in my system. Other than they 'clip-clop' of the horses and the soft cries of crickets, the world is quiet.

No one has much to say, so nothing in said. At least not until the sun begins to dip behind the horizon and the reds and oranges slowly turn to dark blues and purples of night. Still, no tavern or inn appears on the path.

Only nature surrounds us long after the sun has set, and the world has darkened. It's only then that I find the courage to break the silence. Unsure if it has gone on this long because if they're angry at us or if they have nothing to say about us getting shitfaced drunk, and running all about all of Forlì causing dance parties, breaking statues, assaulting knights, and getting arrest….

Yeah, they're probably just pissed.

"Are we traveling through the night?"

My question sounds loud in the silence. Like a scream more than the quiet question it was. In front of me, Ken flinches from the sudden noise. Yet, for all its loudness, no answer comes for a long time. Long enough that it makes me wonder if we're being ignored.

"We will reach the Inn soon," Ezio finally whispers back just when I'm beginning to wonder if they possibly didn't hear me. "Just a few more miles and we can get some food and sleep."

"Okay."