Last Rites
Yet another day ended in Roma. As the sun set, the majestic city was cast in a rosy aura, its buildings seeming to almost glow in the dimming light. The white stone church in the northern part of the Centro District shone pink, the water in a nearby fountain sparkled red, and to a certain master assassin's eyes, the familiar, red dress his friend was wearing as she stood in front of the church seemed even brighter than usual.
Intentionally, Ezio scuffed his feet on the cobblestones as he walked, making noise to get Micaella's attention. He smirked when it worked; his friend immediately turned her head, and ears, to the sound of leather and metal scraping the road.
"Salute, Micaella," Ezio greeted, and, kissing the back of her hand when she offered it to him, "How are you?"
"Ser Ezio," Micaella smiled, touching the side of his face gently, making sure that it really was him, "I am well. I have heard that you rescued Signora Sforza. Congratulations!"
"Grazie," Ezio smiled against her palm, pleased that word had travelled so quickly, "What business brings you here?"
"I'm here for church," she answered simply.
Ezio's smile slipped when he heard that; Micaella felt his jaw tense. He knew better than to believe in a god, after all the things he had seen in the world.
"I did not realize there was Mass, today," he said stiffly, moving away to lean on the church wall behind Micaella and cross his arms.
"There isn't," Micaella shrugged, pretending she didn't notice his attitude and turning to face the town square before them, again.
Ezio raised an eyebrow at the back of her head, wondering, "Then why are you here?"
"My friend is holding last rites for two of her kin," Micaella answered, almost airily, "She invited me to come."
Hearing that, Ezio straightened up from the wall, suddenly feeling he had been overly rude, acting the way he had. Awkwardly, almost sheepishly, he shuffled his weight from foot to foot, trying to think of something to say.
"...It's all right. I'm not very close to her, let alone her family," Micaella said calmly, glancing back to throw her little smile at him, "And this isn't really the kind of church I would attend."
"Oh," Ezio relaxed, almost visibly, then raised an eyebrow when he read the name of the church on a nearby sign, "But this is your church. It has your name on it."
Micaella shook her head a little, amused, knowing that the place of worship was called "La Chiesa Dell'Archangelo Micael," meaning, "The Church of the Archangel Michael."
"Please, signore, I will never lead a league of angels to war," Micaella chided gently.
"You never know," Ezio smiled when she finally laughed, "...How long until the ceremony starts, do you think?"
"Maybe half an hour. Why?"
"I do not know your friend or her country's customs, but I have a feeling that wearing bright red at a funeral is a little disrespectful. Perhaps you should get changed."
"I'm wearing red?" Micaella was surprised, then added dryly, "It looked black in the dark."
Ezio chuckled, at that, "I thought one of the thieves at the guild helped you dress, every morning?"
"She does," Micaella answered, frowning a little to herself, "I told Lucia to dress me in black."
"Oh, Lucia?" understanding dawned on Ezio when he recognized the name, "La donna loves bright, pretty things. She hates black, and probably didn't want to see you wearing it."
"Yes, but I can't wear red, today," Micaella reminded, then started tugging at her skirts, uncomfortable now that she knew what she was wearing, "What she wears on her time is her business...I should have told Lucia I was going to a funeral..."
Micaella's muttering fell to silence, as she wondered what to do with herself. All her belongings were at La Volpe Addormentata, on the other end of Roma. She didn't have any time to go home and get changed, but she didn't want to offend her friend, either.
"...Not to change the subject, amica mia, but is the service in remembrance of two?" Ezio asked, breaking the quiet pause.
"Si," Micaella considered for a moment how he could know, "...Is the funeral procession on its way?"
"It is," Ezio nodded, then patted her shoulder gently, "One of the pallbearers seems to need assistance. I'll be back in a moment."
...:...
When Ezio returned, Micaella was still outside, this time joined by her friend. While the stranger's face was tear-stained, the brunette's eyes were dry, and her face was not sorrowful but stony. When Micaella introduced her to him, Ezio reached out to take her hand politely. To his mild surprise, she ignored it, looking at him distrustfully, and left without another word.
"Forgive her, signore," Micaella said gently, putting a hand on Ezio's arm, "She no longer believes in nobles."
"I am no noble," Ezio pointed out, watching the other woman enter the church, I lost my place in society long ago.
"Please. A blind woman can tell from your walk that you are more than we mere commoners," Micaella smiled, then sighed, "Adele's family was betrayed by a noble under the Borgia's thumb. Had it not been for that man, her father and brother would still be alive."
Micaella cocked her ears when she heard Ezio's breath catch, at that. The hand on his arm felt his muscles tensing, almost trembling.
"...Ser Ezio?" she asked softly, "...what is it?"
"Her...father and brother, you said?" Ezio clarified, a strange tone in his voice.
"I did," Micaella answered, then added, almost hesitantly, "A familiar story, to you?"
"Very," Ezio replied, his voice husky, "But my story had two brothers, one of which was little more than a child," he grimaced, "And at least Signorina Adele had no trouble getting her family's bodies back."
Stunned by this bit of past revealed to her, Micaella made a sympathetic sound in the back of her throat, squeezing Ezio's arm a little. He grimaced bitterly at the memory.
"They were hung at the gallows, and cut down and moved before I could claim them. The stronzo were going to throw my father and brothers into the river," Ezio growled, the old rage bubbling up inside him.
Like garbage, Micaella thought, revolted at the callousness of it, "Did you find them in time?"
"...Si. Cristina mia helped me find them," Ezio answered, calming himself a little, "She stopped me from killing the soldiers who were guarding their bodies."
Good for her, Micaella thought, silently thanking her.
"I had to sneak around for hours to take my family to a safe place for their last rites, but Cristina stayed with me," Ezio recollected, his arm slowly relaxing as he remembered, "I was so grateful for her...I do not know what I would have done had she not been there for me," he made a sound, somewhere between a chuckle and a repressed sob, "I had to leave the city, or else they would kill me, too. I asked Cristina to come with me."
"...she couldn't, could she?" Micaella guessed sadly.
Ezio shook his head with a sigh, "No. She couldn't...she still had her family to think about."
"...it sounds like she wanted to go, though."
Ezio was thoughtful, for a moment. It was true; Cristina had not denied him outright.
"Perhaps," he allowed, nodding a little.
"Did she give you anything to remember her by?"
"No...I gave her a pendant, so she might remember me. And then I left."
Micaella opened her mouth to ask another question, but they both heard a cough by the church's doors. Adele was standing there, clearly waiting for Micaella.
"The service is going to start, soon," Adele said tersely, and, without even sparing Ezio a glance, she disappeared into the building, again.
"You should go," Ezio said, then patted the hand that was still anchored to his arm, "I'll be all right, Micaella."
"You don't sound all right," she said, giving him a stern look.
"I have had over twenty years to heal, little angel. Adele has not had twenty days," Ezio pointed out, prying her fingers from his arm, "She needs you more, right now."
Micaella nodded reluctantly, then frowned again. Ezio saw her hands grip her skirts, still a gaudy, inappropriate red. Right. This was still an issue.
Thankfully, Ezio solved her problem for her. Micaella's eyebrows raised when she felt something large and a little weighty get draped over her shoulders.
"...Ser Ezio, what is this?" she asked, feeling with her hands that he had tied some kind of cloth around her neck with a string.
"My cape," he explained, adjusting it so it fell over her left shoulder, "I had it dyed black for a mission, a few days back."
"...why would you need a black cape for a mission?" Micaella wondered skeptically.
"To compliment my green outfit," Ezio answered smoothly, "Now go. Best not keep them waiting. I'll find you tomorrow morning to get it back."
"You could come in with me," Micaella suggested, "They need the support. Adele is the oldest now; with her mother and three younger ones to care for, things will only get more difficult."
"She'll not accept support from a noble, I'll wager. And I am not the one here who belongs in a church, angioletto mio," Ezio smirked, then kissed Micaella's cheeks lightly in farewell, "Arrivederci."
"I thought you weren't a noble!" Micaella exclaimed, but already she could hear Ezio walking away, so she called after him, "And I am not an angel, signore!"
The young woman's half-smile was back on her lips. Her friend really was too charming.
But slowly, Micaella's face fell to a more serious expression. She had been about to ask if that was the end of his love story. It hadn't felt like his heart had broken there...only that they had been forced to part. She could relate to such a feeling; her time with the man she loved had ended all to soon, when she had been required to leave him. For weeks, it was as if a part of her had been left behind, with him. But she had never been able to return to him; Ezio had had the option. Above all other things, Micaella wanted to ask if Cristina had waited for him.
Well...It really isn't any of my business, she thought, as she turned towards the church doors, her staff tapping to find her way, But perhaps that is a memory for another day...
Esperwen: Short chapter for a short memory. Not much really happened, in this one... =/
Half-butt translation:
Amica mia = My friend (This is me pretending to understand Italian. I know the male word is amico, so I assumed the 'o' changes to an 'a' when referring to a woman, but if I'm just making this stuff up, tell me! *coughI'*)
angioletto mio = My little angel. Apparently, angels don't get a gender, so it's mio even if referring to Micaella? *SO LOST*