Disclaimer:I do not own Ezio or any other mentioned Assassin's Creed characters, they are the property of Ubisoft. As for the historical characters mentioned… well.. I guess they belong to history… or themselves…

AuthorNotes:I tried to find a historical figure for this chapter that would assist in the personal development of Ezio in this storyline. Sadly, all the possible candidates:
1. Likely died before he was born
2. Were kids at the time
3. Are too famous / or infamous, so that kinda restricts what I can do with the storyline of the character. I like to keep it as close to the actual historical personage as possible.
4. Are of the wrong social status or circumstance to be interested in helping a floundering young man

So I had to settle for an OC in the end.

Glossary:
Condottiere - mercenary soldier leaders (or warlords) of the professional, military free companies contracted by the Italian city-states and the Papacy, from the late Middle Ages and throughout the Renaissance.

Bocconotti – cream puffs… the type that this AU incarnation of Ezio likes.

Lucia was extremely secretive today. She pulled Ezio along the streets without giving so much as a hint where they were heading. She simply said that there was someone he had to meet. She led him along to a tavern in an older part of Florence.

"Where are we going, Lucia?" he asked.

"To find someone who can teach you how to defend yourself," she replied.

"Why would I need that?" Ezio was quite surprised.

"So that Vieri and his gang won't kill you every time you have the misfortune to bump into that scum," she replied. "I would like to have you very much alive and in good health for a long time to come."

The tavern they stopped at was dimly lit and rather old, Lucia made her way to where a man sat by himself at a table in an alcove at the back.

This man was a tall, middle-aged fellow in somber clothes who wore his hair slicked back and had the lower half of a close-clopped goatee on his chin. He was quite startled to see the pair sit at his table.

He addressed the pair, "This is my table and I usually sit alone."

"We have business with you," Lucia replied.

"And what do you wish of me?" he asked. "I do not usually contact out my services to individuals, although I could recommend you a few good men-at-arms who are in the business of protection."

"I wish to contract you to impart your skills to my friend here.

He took a look at Ezio and laughed.

"Perhaps you might want to find someone else. There are many fencing instructors in our city," he remarked.

"I would like for you to teach my friend how to fight, to defend himself," she said, batting her attractive eyes.

"My Art is ill-suited for gentlemen like your friend here," He glanced at Ezio carefully, "Say, is your name Auditore?"

"Yes."

"Do you have an uncle named Mario? A rather tall fellow with shoulder-length hair and a scar over his left eye."

"I have an uncle by that name, but I do not know what he looks like," the young man replied.

"Your uncle is a mercenary soldier of some renown with his own company of men. If its protection you are looking for, you can ask him instead," he remarked.

"I haven't met my uncle. And he doesn't live here in this city."

"How about your father?" he asked slyly.

"What about my father?" Ezio was quite surprised.

"I believe he could instruct you."

Ezio laughed so hard the other customers at the tavern turned to look at their table.

"My father has never raised his hand against another man in his life," the young man replied.

"Really? From what I see of him, I find that hard to believe," the man remarked. "He is cut from the same cloth as his brother - your uncle."

"Please help him, Signor Acuto," Lucia begged. "Your family has defended our city for generations, your knowledge of the arts of warfare are without equal. ….besides, it was YOU who saved him that night at the Ponte Vecchio from Vieri's gang."

Ezio was shocked at this piece of information.

"And what makes you think we have met before?" he asked.

"I have heard that the condottieri of old could irreversibly break a man with a few simple actions and that one could take on a force of many men and win. The other day, I saw you disarm a man with a twist of your wrist, the same thing our mysterious benefactor did at the Ponte Vecchio."

"So you followed me around?" he quizzed the brunette.

"Pardon my intrusion, but I just had to be sure that you were the one." She replied.

The middle-aged fellow laughed, "I am by far much more persuaded to teach this woman my Art than yourself, Signor Auditore."

Ezio wanted to reply that he wasn't too interested in learning anything from this middle-aged stranger, but the name of Acuto was one that even he had heard. In the days of his great-grandfather, An Englishman, who was also a condottiere, by the name of Giovanni Acuto saved Florence from an invasion. It was said that Sir Acuto married a local girl and made his home in Florence till his death. Ezio was unaware that any of Sir Acuto's descendants still lived in Florence, since his only son moved back to England at the behest of the English king. Ezio was also a little reluctant to have anything to do with condottieri, although widely admired for their fighting abililiies, most condottieri were also brutal and savage individuals, glorious monsters who were both admired and reviled at the same breath.

"I think it's time for us to leave," Ezio tugged at Lucia's sleeve.

"Please, Signor Acuto, I promise he'll be a good student… he really does need your help," Ezio had never seen Lucia that insistent with anyone. "If you don't help him he'll end up being killed by Vieri."

"Even if I were to agree, … my fees are high, as you well know," he said. He then proceeded to name an exorbitant amount, which Ezio found himself gaping at. He couldn't make enough in a year to pay Signor Acuto for a month.

"Perhaps I could help even out the payment," Lucia interjected, leaning over the table so that the old soldier could have a good view of her ivory bosom.

Signor Acuto's eyes widened and he swallowed rather visibly, "You drive a hard bargain."

"NO!" Ezio got up and brought his hand down on the table in front of Lucia almost immediately. He felt like hitting the old soldier hard in the face. He pulled Lucia to one side quickly and whispered, "I don't want you doing this and I don't see why I need to learn anything from this fellow."

"He is the best there is in our city," she whispered furiously back. "And what I do with my body is my own business! If you don't do something about your sorry self, you'll be dead before 1476! And I don't want to cry over a dead … lover… not that we've done anything that would give you that title!"

Ezio glared at Lucia, but she glared back fiercely.

Seeing the ruckus, the old soldier interjected. "It would be a lot cheaper for you to appeal to your own family for help."

"Unfortunately, that is something that I cannot do," Ezio replied.

"Really?" Signor Acuto raised an eyebrow at the answer. Things certainly were complicated in the Auditore house.

"Do this, or never speak to me again!" Lucia whispered into the young man's ear. She laid down everything on the line unsure if she could force his hand.

Ezio looked into her limpid eyes. There was fear and a huge amount of uncertainty. But she gazed back at him unwaveringly.

"All right… all right!" he finally said to the old soldier. "I'll pay you the amount in full… somehow. There is no need to collect it from anyone else…"

"And if you do…." He looked at Signor Acuto straight in the eye."I'll…"

"You'll what…" the old soldier met his gaze and his voice rose in a threatening manner.

Somwhere at the back of his mind, he realized that he had threatened a professional killer of men. But he could not back down now.

"I'll kill you." He replied with a finality that surprised everyone at the table, himself included.

"I doubt that," the old soldier remarked. Turning to the courtesan he commented, "I don't know where you found him … what an audacious young fellow!… "

"I think you might be actually worth my time," he said to the young man.

In the end, they worked out a scheme of payment that consisted of both monetary payment and certain bits of work that Ezio had to fulfill for the condottiere. He brought them both to the old old house where he lived.

"There is nothing that I need, except certain repairs to the roof, and the basement needs to be drained of water and cleaned up…. LOTS of work, which I'm sure you'll have no problem with," he eyed the young man doubtfully.

"With regards to the lessons, I have only 2 stipulations… 1, that you never speak of the lessons we have here or reveal any secrets of my Art to anyone… especially not a thug like Vieri… 2. that you will follow all that I say to the letter," he said.

For the next few weeks, Ezio left his work at the bank early to finish up all the work that was owed to Signor Acuto. Although he really did not see the need to have to learn anything from this fellow, he nevertheless kept at it, if not for himself, for the sake of Lucia, who seemed so happy to see him hauling planks of wood round and climbing up ladders to repair the old roof. Despite his own fear of heights, he was more afraid of what Lucia might say if he failed in this endevour. He could not bear to lose her because of his own incompetence.

Amazingly, despite his own initial misgivings, he found himself falling quite easily into the routine of working for Signor Tornabouni in the earlier part of the day and working like a common labourer for Signor Acuto in the late afternoon and evening. However, the only thing that he truly found difficult to keep to was Signor Acuto's demand that he stop eating Bocconotti for good. He had lived with eating those cream puffs for so long it was hard to imagine life without them. There were a lot of good memories associated with the cream puffs and he often ate them whenever he felt stressed.

"It's been my feeling that those things aren't good for anyone," he squinted at Ezio critically. "Not especially anyone aspiring to learn my Art or trying to impress the ladies. You would be far better without them. And far slimmer too… remember, ladies like men with broad shoulders and a defined waist like on the old Roman statues, and not a large gentleman with spindy legs and a wobbly middle."

Oddly, enough, for a gentleman without a wife, Signor Acuto seemed quite insistent on what women liked. He often dispensed axioms of wisdom to the young man about women and life in general.

"No matter what they say, all women like their men to be strong and able to defend them," he remarked one evening while Ezio hauled a giant plank up to the dilapidated roof. "and especially so in these uncertain times…."

Despite his rather patriarchal views on women and their role, the young man decided that for the amount he was paying this mercenary, he had to make the best effort he could muster, and so stopped eating the puffs altogether. It was quite difficult for him in the first 3 days, but after that, it started to get better. Mostly because every time he stopped by a Boconotti store from force of habit, Lucia or some random courtesan would come up to him and smack him with her fan.

After that, he stopped because of the humiliation. Thanks to the courtesan grapevine, now every other lady-of-the-night knew about his "issues".

In addition to hauling stuff around for Signor Acuto, Ezio worked out a plan to invest a portion of his own savings in a small business. To Lucia's amazement, he approached the old matron at Lucia's bordello to buy over her business. He then put Lucia in charge of the place and invested money to repair and upgrade the old old bordello. He reasoned that the cash from the business would help to pay off his debt to Signor Acuto, because he was never going to be able to afford a condottiere's salary unless he either had money of his own or stole it from someone, and brothels never went out of business.

"Now, I…. should have gotten myself a banker years ago," one of the ladies of the brothel remarked at the changes that were taking place.

As one of the conditions of buying over the business, he took Lucia aside and said to her, "I don't want you seeing any more OTHER "customers"."

"I don't see how YOU have any say over what I do," the courtesan remarked. "We don't even KNOW each other."

"Well…. I'm your OWNER!" he exclaimed.

"Well, you are starting to sound like Vieri!" she retorted. "At least he's forced himself on me a few times…YOU on the other hand, don't have any idea what you've bought!"

Now he really felt like stabbing Vieri in the face.

"Well, I'm trying my best to make a decent woman out of you!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, so…. I'm not good enough for you?" she really didn't like how this whole argument was turning out.

"Well, since you see fit to try to make me into something I'm not…. I don't see why I can't do the same to you!"

"I'm trying to save your stupid life!" she shouted back.

"I don't see why you should care about what happens to me…" he shot back.

She threw herarms around him and placed her head on his chest. "You STUPID, HELPLESS BOY!" she exclaimed.

He really couldn't continue the argument any further with her body drawn so close to him. He pulled her close and buried his face in her hair, "I really can't bear the thought of you in the arms of another man…. I guess I just want you for myself alone…"

Lucia rolled her eyes, "If you really want me this much, then why try desperately to hide yourself from me?" she pulled at the opening of his big coat. "Come to me, let me see you as you are…."

"No…." he pulled the coat tightly around himself. His face was red as a beet.

"Well, what's wrong?" there was a huge frown on her face. "Silly boy, you don't have to care about what I think.. no man ever does…."

"Well, they should," he said. "YOU are the most beautiful woman in this city."

On his part, all the hard work he did on Signor Acuto's house paid off in ways that Ezio did not anticipate. After awhile, he found himself shrinking. His round tummy receeded and he felt lighter on the whole. He also found new bulges on his arms that had never existed before.

"Finally," the old condotteriere remarked one evening. "You are starting to look like a man."

Ezio never worked so hard in his life. Signor Acuto had loads of junk in his basement, from his years as an active condottiere. There were boxes of armour, and stacks upon stacks of random stuff he had collected in his own travels throughout Italia and to lands beyond, such was the life of a mercenary soldier. Ezio was amazed by the curios that popped out from every trunk and shelf. There was even a strange weapon that Signor Acuto said he took off an assailant who tried to murder him in the dead of the night. It was a blade worn on the inner arm that could be extended and retracted with e flick of the wrist. He asked the old soldier how it might be used in a fight, but Acuto gave him a grim answer.

"It is a murderer's weapon," he remarked. "Leave it be."

Signor Acuto did not spend much time teaching Ezio about weapons, he focused mostly on striking and grappling a man, especially the laws that ruled the human body and how by knowing those laws, a man could overcome a much more powerful opponent.

"Try to take your opponent down as fast as possible," Signor Acuto constantly reminded him. "The longer you draw out a fight, the higher the chance of you losing that fight…you should ideally have your enemy down on his back in a matter of moments. Take his weapon from him and strike him with it."

Most of Signor Acuto's techniques sounded frankly rather dishonorable to Ezio.

"If you suspect that someone is going to draw his dagger against you, you should seize the initiative and take action against him first," the old soldier said to him one evening.

"That's rather dishonourable," the young man remarked.

"Well, honour be damned!" the older man swore. "Fighting is all about survival. There is no honour in having your face cut in half. We live in dangerous times. A man could get killed and not know why it happened."

He flipped out a dagger suddenly and swung it at Ezio, stopping the blade an inch from the young man's face. "If you wait for the enemy to draw his weapon, there will always be a chance that you might not be able to stop the blade from hitting you on time. I didn't manage to survive to his age without a single scar on my face by waiting for my enemy to act. You need to keep your eyes open, observe your surroundings, read those you come across. If you see a man who seems too nervous and he's about to reach for a weapon, seize him by the hand, hit his chin in the manner I taught you and throw his head down to the ground like a hammer hitting an anvil. That should crack his skull open in a nasty place. Do this with speed and without hesitation. And you will live."

"Speaking about daggers, what about other weapons? I mean, what about this?" he grasped at a sword from a rack of weapons nearby. It frankly felt a lot heavier than it looked.

"There is no need for you to know much about weapons," Signor Acuto remarked. "Warfare is not your chosen profession."

Despite being a good student throughout his life, Ezio found the lessons incredibly hard. Firstly, he was not as physically strong or fast or tough as Signor Acuto. Secondly, anything that had to do with physical movement was almost alien to him. He stumbled around like a drunk after a long night of drinking. Strangely enough, the old condottiere's remedy to Ezio's shortcomings was to send him up the roof for more repairs or have him hauling around really large and heavy pieces of wood.

"What are you going to do when you have a family and it gets cold and you need logs?" he once remarked when Ezio struggled with a large log.

When it got closer to Christmas, he had Ezio chop tons of logs for the fireplace. Amazingly, the young man found that splitting a log was harder than it looked. Although the old soldier demonstrated the technique to him a dozen times, Ezio found that he was unable to split the logs evenly even though he mimicked his teacher's every move.

"By the saints!" the old soldier remarked. "I've never known a man who cannot split a log!"

"You must have the willpower of a woman," he remarked after Ezio's penultimate failed attempt at log splitting. "You need to focus on splitting the log with a single swing. It's all about bringing it down fast at the right angle and pulling the handle strongly with your left hand. There must be no hesitation in your mind… I don't understand why you keep hesitating… it's like you are too afraid to split the thing in half…. What on earth is wrong with you?"

Ezio never mastered log splitting but Signor Acuto got a lot of logs out of him for the fireplace, which were misshapen for the most part.

By the end of the first few weeks, Ezio had been struck and flipped to the ground so many times, he frankly felt rather demoralized. However, he kept going back because Lucia seemed rather pleased by the whole affair. In fact, she sometimes visited them when they were training. She never stopped smiling no matter how many times Signor Acuto flipped him onto the ground or twisted his arm around rather painfully. Ezio suspected that she only came by to watch because that was the one time he was forced to take off everything apart from his shirt, pants and shoes.

Ezio was surprised that Signor Acuto never asked him about his impending trial or about the whole incident involving himself and his friend Leonardo. The old soldier seemed far more interested in asking him questions about his family, and about his father in particular.

"So your father has never struck a man before, not even in anger?"

"No. Not that I've ever seen," Ezio replied. "He is the gentlest man I know. He would rather settle any argument with words than with fists."

"So he looks a lot like you," the old soldier prodded Ezio's slightly protruding tummy.

Ezio drew back a bit. The questions were getting a tad uncomfortable, "No not really…. I mean… in terms of appearance," he made a circular motion with his hand around his face. "I look like him. In terms of stature, I think he looks a lot more like my brother Federico."

"Who taught your brother how to climb and run around the rooftops?"

Ezio was rather surprised by the question.

"I mean," the old soldier remarked. "It's quite hard not to notice a tall young man clambering up the side of walls and running around the rooftops, sometimes even my old roof. And moreover, your brother does have a distinctive appearance."

"No one taught him anything. It's just something Federico does."

"And YOU don't?"

"I don't like heights."

"So how were you able to get up and mend my roof?" Signor Acuto wondered.

"With great difficulty. And by gritting my teeth and not looking down."

One weekend, Signor Acuto surprised Ezio by walking almost directly into him as he was getting out of the front door of the Auditore home. The young man stared at him in stunned silence as he walked through the archway and into the courtyard.

"I have a meeting with your father," he calmly remarked.

Almost on cue, Giovanni came out of the door that led to his office an greeted the old soldier. As they clasped hands, Signor Acuto looked directly into the banker's eyes, almost as if he were sizing up an opponent. Ezio half expected his father to look away, the old soldier had a gaze that could pierce iron. But amazingly, the banker merely blinked.

"Come on in out of the cold, Signor Acuto," Giovanni patted him on the shoulder. "We are glad to be able to do business with you."

Worried that his secret might get out, Ezio frequently wandered past the office door, peeking in occasionally to see what the two men were talking about. Finally, after seeing Ezio passing by the door for what must be the nineth time, Giovanni called him in.

"Have you met my son, Ezio?"

"Pleased to meet you, Signor Acuto," Ezio held out a pale, little hand rather limply, as he usually did at work. However, he stared at the old soldier as firmly as he could, willing that his unspoken message would reach the man.

"Piero Acuto," the old soldier seemed to have gotten his unspoken message and reached out to shake his hand with an almost crushing grip.

When the old soldier left, Giovanni turned to his son, "Ezio, do you know this man?"

"No. Papa," Ezio silently prayed that his face would not betray him. "Who is he?"

"Really? You have no idea who he is? I thought that his name was a dead giveaway."

Ezio silently cursed. Almost every Florentine knew about the Acuto family. His father was now looking at him rather oddly.

"You are SURE you don't know him."

"No."

Quite naturally, Signor Acuto confronted Ezio about the whole incident the next time they met.

"So your father has no idea at all that you are learning from me."

"No."

"Does your father know what happened between you and Vieri?"

"No."

He put an arm on Ezio's shoulder, "You know, things might be easier for you if you said something to your family."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Father … he isn't a fighting man," the young man explained. "I think he would die if he knew I got into any kind of fight. He doesn't like violence."

This time it was Signor Acuto's turn to look at Ezio oddly.

"One day, Ezio, you need to sit down with your father and have a good, long talk."

"Why are you so interested in my family?"

Signor Acuto stared at the young man.

"Why, I would have thought that the reason would be obvious. You, Ezio, are related to Mario Auditore, a man who is in the same profession as am I. Now, in my world at least, a condottiere's martial skills are his life. And not all condottieri know what I know. However, many would like to have knowledge of my Art. Although over the years I've been asked by many young noblemen to impart my skills to them, I've thus far refused all, because I would not like to see someone using my own skills against me."

"So why did you agree to teach me?"

"Because none of those who have ever asked me would risk their life for a courtesean. None of them are in fear for their life because of something right they did."