"You are what makes us worse than what we already are."
"Are you sure? Perhaps it is the other way around, child."
The afternoon was hot, the stone street radiating heat accumulated from the sun and burning Fiora's bare feet as she swayed and cooed with three other courtesans. Of course, they weren't walking along side her willingly, unless one calls one swipe from her fan to the throat a willing agreement. After her time in the bordellos, all courtesans made it a point to avoid her, casting her as an exile. But several threats to their already pathetic lives made them cooperative and unwilling to share their experience with others. But that didn't mean they kept quiet while Fiora was within hearing distance. One of the girls, who couldn't be more than fifteen with wispy false blonde hair, was the most vocal.
"At least we have honor. At least we-" she began, hissing behind her fan.
"There is nothing honorable about selling ones virtue for money," Fiora's voice no longer patiently exasperated but hard and final.
The child blushed and focused on a nearby patrol, pursuing the topic no longer. It was a low blow; she hadn't been much different than her when she began her time as a courtesan. But just because she had been one, doesn't mean she was proud of it. Fiora shifted her shoulders, the whore dress falling a little more down her arms, drawing the eyes of more than the common soldier. She had chose to wear her old common courtesan attire for this outing than her usual gear. A decision the ex-courtesan didn't particularly enjoy but a decision that guaranteed her discretion. As she walked with the other courtesan's, flashes of past memories threatened to steal her attention.
"Signore, you may choose whom ever pleases you most."
His gaze wafted over the girls, a confident smirk on his lightly tanned face. Then his sharp eyes locked with hers.
"You."
No. She was not doing this here. Shoving against the memory, she pushed it far away from her conscious. Distraction, she needed it now.
"Well, look here boys."
Perfect. Fiora smirked and turned to face the small group of approaching local guards.
"May we be of service to you boys?" Fiora purred, brushing her hand along her collarbone.
"We promise to give a good time," said the light brunette on her right, tantalizingly lifting her short dressings in the front an inch higher.
A few of the men whistled, another grabbed fast to the little, mouthy blonde's wrist and pulled her to him. Her eyes were panicked for several seconds but her body responded to him, pushing him with her hips into the nearest alleyway. Fiora's gut wrenched with sickness, she didn't like the look in that soldiers eyes. Hot breath pulsed onto Fiora's neck making her turn to the last remaining soldier not already being entertained.
"Shall we find somewhere… private, caro?" she whispered, her mouth inches from his.
The guard smirked but though his eyes shown in an irresistible lust for her, business was on his mind.
Fiora followed the guard through a secluded road between buildings, the walkway narrow and damp. The walkway was a series of dark alleyways connected together and could be found in anywhere the buildings were close. The roads of the underworld: short cuts for thieves, shelters for beggars, and business venues for courtesans. They passed one of the courtesans hard at work and the guard patted his fellow brother with pride as they passed. The guard continued to walk and stopped outside a small doorless doorway leading into a secluded and neglected garden.
"He's in there," the guard grunted, jerking his head towards the entrance.
"Grazie, caro," Fiora sighed, clucking a slim finger under his jaw and entering the garden.
"Fiora, I must say, your old uniform makes you more pathetic than your current one. No wonder Cesare picked you."
The voice was gruff, as if the voice box had been dragged down the rough street and been given back to it's owner, permanently damaged. Fiora eyes flicked to the farthest corner and found a tall, stocky man in the shadows, his muddy brown cowl revealing only dead eyes and a constant frown.
"You're one to talk, Il Carnefice. When you can manage not to stain your clothes past the point of saving, then you can call me pathetic," she replied with cold civility, eyeing his blood stained apron and leather breaches with disgust.
"You have orders for me," Carnefice said, ignoring her jab and holding out his hand.
"Cesare has a hefty list this time and he wants it complete in a fortnight," Fiora said, handing him the list.
Carnefice glanced over the list and then, raising an eyebrow, looked up at the ex-courtesan, his black eyes unreflecting.
"Well, it appears you won't be attending Cesare's next party, puttana."
Fiora stilled but kept her face composed.
"Seems your names on this list."
She silently shifted her fan in her hand and hardened into a glare. It was several seconds before the executioner chuckled darkly.
"At peace, sister. I only jest. It wouldn't matter if your name were on it or not. I can't read."
"Then have your guards read it to you like a good little boy," Fiora hissed, done with his games.
"The list will be done."
Tucking the list behind his apron, he walked away and turned his head as he exited to address her.
"While you're in all your glory, why don't you entertain my guard? Since he has been keeping watch and not joining in the fun with the rest of them."
"I'm no longer in the business."
"Oh? So it wasn't you who had bedded and killed Cesare's brother?"
Fiora's nose flared with indignation as the executioner left and the guard entered. Now his eyes held all lust, no seriousness from before.
"Shall we, puttana? I'm in much need of relief and soft skin to bite."
Really? That had to be the worst thing to say.
She flicked her fan open, swiped and moved away, the guard's lower tunic and belt falling to the ground, leaving him unprotected in his area of much needed relief.
"Move any closer and I will give you the relief you seek," Fiora threatened, moving her fan to reflect the sun and casting a deadly fear into the guard's eyes.
But the guard was foolish, as she expected, and lunged at her. She deepened in stance ready for his throat to come into striking distance. What she hadn't expected was the whisper of cloth, the infamous sound of metal against metal and the guard to fall dead at her feet, with a white clad figure on top of it. The figure with drew his now bloody hand from the guard's neck, revealing the notorious hidden blade of the Assassini. The assassin stood and stepped over the body to stand inches away from Fiora, a scarred smirk she recognized gracing the handsome features.
"We meet again, Fiora."
Perfect…
"Auditore?" Her day just kept getting deeper and deeper in the mud.
To say she was surprised was an understatement. Here stood before her the maestro of the Assassins again, killing Il Carnefice's men, and speaking calmly to her. How much did her hear? Did he see Il Carnefice leave? Does he know what she is? How much does he know?
"I know I'm handsome, bella mia, but you must learn to guard yourself from my charm," Ezio smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Fiora started, realizing while she had been deep in thought, her eyes had never left the assassino. Her face flushed in embarrassment and anger.
"You are not as stunning as you think," replied Fiora, holding her chin high.
"No? Then why are you blushing?" The Ezio pointed at her cheeks, his smirk never leaving.
"Don't mistake my anger for admiration."
"Don't I at least get a thank you?"
"Thank you?"
"I just saved you from an attacking guard."
The tension in her body relaxed slightly. Judging from his speech, Ezio had not seen Il Carnefice and did not hear her conversation with him. But just having this assassino close made her tense no matter what.
"I was fine without you."
"Always the unaccommodating courtesan."
Fiora scowled, what was it about this man that made her loose her act? She couldn't pretend that she was the infatuated, innocent courtesan she was supposed to be around him. She opened her mouth to retaliate but stopped when she heard raised voices coming from outside the garden. A growl, a scream of fear and desperation, a loud smack. Fiora's mind returned to the little blonde being lead away, the look in the soldier's eye. The ex-courtesan cursed and ran out of the garden, down the walkway and turned into an alleyway. There, she found the scene she would be expecting. A shivering frightened girl with a bright red cheek, trapped in the grasp of a hungry man, forcing himself on her after his time was over. Fiora knew the situation all too well.
"Hey stronzo!"
The guard turned towards Fiora, his eyes wild.
"Keep moving, puttana. I'm busy," he grunted and turned back to the girl, who began to cry hysterically.
"Shut up! I'm not through with you!"
"I think you are, signore."
The guard turned in confusion toward Fiora and looked to the man who had joined her at her side. She also looked to her side and saw Ezio's demeanor completely changed from before. No longer was there the charismatic, boyish charm from before. Now she saw the assassino, the maestro of the Assassins, his face stern and still, deadly. The guard's eyes widened at Ezio.
"Assassino…." he whispered, dropping the girl and backing towards the street.
The guard's eyes flicked to Fiora's and then back to Ezio's, tumbling backwards and running out of the alleyway.
"Lurido porco," spat Ezio but Fiora was already gone, running after the guard.
On a normal day, Fiora would let the man go. But the man had seen her with Ezio, a Templar agent and an assassin, standing side by side. Better yet, the man was a guard for Il Carnefice, one who joked with her life, one who would be more than willing to pass the information of her being with an assassin to Cesare. The guard was a liability. As Fiora ran through the crowded streets, hot on the tail of the guard, a shadow passed over the sun and she glanced up at the roofs. Ezio ran and jumped, following the progress of Fiora and the guard from above. Not good, she needed to get to the guard before Ezio. If she didn't, Ezio would know she was his enemy.
But why does that matter?
Her running pace increased, her determination hardened, she had eyes only for her target. He was panicked, limbs flailing with every crowd he encountered and stumbling over boxes and small children. This made it all the more easy for Fiora. She leaped over the ruckus he left in his wake and shoved people out of the way, quickly gaining on him as he turned sharply left into a much smaller and secluded street. In his last moments of desperation, the guard made one fatal mistake: he looked back. Fiora leaped, her fan flicked open behind her and as she made contact, she slit his throat. They fell to the ground, Fiora crouched over the guard who choked and spluttered, his fingers feeling the open gash along his throat.
"Tra-tradi-tore!" the man coughed, a thick blood clot landing on Fiora's cheek as she watched the life leave his eyes.
She breathed heavily and cleaned her fan on the guard's tunic. This was not good. Yes, she silenced the guard but that didn't hide the fact that she now had two dead guards on her hands. And now she would have to explain everything to Il Carnefice and then to Cesare. This day was glorious.
"Fiora."
The ex-courtesan straightened and looked over her shoulder at Ezio. He stood not far behind her and past him, Fiora glimpsed horrified civilians running in fear or frozen in shock. She needed to get out of here, Cesare's guards would soon be here and then what would she do if they saw her with the assassin?
"The deed is done, Auditore. You may continue with your day," she said and stepped over the guard.
But the moment she put her foot on the ground, she gasped in pain and brought it back up. Fiora looked down to find her self, standing in a pool of her own blood, the precious liquid dripping steadily from her raised foot. She hadn't realized what the chase had done to her bare feet and now she wished she hadn't dressed in her old courtesan attire.
"Merda…"
"We need to get you to a dottore," said Ezio, taking her arm and putting it over his shoulders.
"No, there is no need-" Fiora began, as he lifted her into his arms.
"No need? You are right, bleeding to death is nothing serious at all," he commented, keeping a straight face but unable to hide the smile in his eyes.
"But, I could hardly resist the chance to save a damsel in distress."
He winked, Fiora rolled her eyes. Gone was the deadly assassin, back was the boyish flirt.
"You are impossible."
"Oh, I must disagree, cara. You'll find me very possible."
See, I promised I'd make the chapters longer. Also, if you hadn't noticed already, all these characters are mostly the multiplayer avatars from Brotherhood and will be throughout this entire story.
Thank you to Lalalala and DucLeJaques for reviewing.
Lalalala: Thank you! Hopefully you keep loving lol.
DucLeJaques: How was that? ;) And I'm not so busy now, so expect more in the future and sooner. Don't worry, there is much more Ezio to come.
As well as, thank you to DSMA, EpicKlauke5, Leontine, BlackAngelic, newyorkersteph0804, DucLeJaques, and GeeDeeny for the follows; and Otaku Addictd Dweeb and Kesshin15 for the favorties :)
Thanks for reading and please provide feedback!
C.V.D.