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…
2012 was a terribly busy year for me... I had wanted to update sooner, but I was kept busy writing research papers... yep... my life radically changed over the last year or so. So has my viewpoint on a whole lot of things, including historical notions of the Assassin group. I am still a fan of the games... and the character... but I think what I have learned in 2012 might leak over into the story, so if you see something you do not agree with, just let me know and I'll explain it.
Warning: There is a lemon in this chapter, if you do not like it, or if it offends you, I suggest you skip this chapter. The story has been rated M, so you know there will be graphic violence and other stuff.
Author Notes:
Well, I guess it's about time to get on with the rest of the story… so onward… with 1476, the dreaded sodomy trial and other stuff….
Cut-throat – oddly enough… the Italian word for this is might be translated as "assassino" (according to the babylon translator) and "Tagliagole" (according to some other translator)…. This is important to know at least in the context of what you are about to read.
Sometime at the end of December, the old soldier got Lucia to bring Ezio down to where the tailors were.
"Make sure you get him to get himself something that looks like what a young fellow would wear. And not what his father would walk around in," the old soldier remarked.
At the end of an afternoon at the tailors', Ezio left it dressed in a pair of high boots, tight pants that reminded him more of a hose than the loose trousers he was used to, a shirt with poofy sleeves and a short, body-hugging doublet that made him feel exposed. Since he was 13 he had always worn a large coat, so no one could see his large middle and spindy legs. He was surprised that he could even fit one of those tiny, sleeveless vests. Unlike most of his own clothes, the new clothes he got were made of rough material and Lucia got him an equally rustic-looking cloak with a deep hood to match.
'"I like how you look," Lucia threw her arms around Ezio and looked into his eyes. "Now remember, no matter where Signor Acuto brings you, you are NOT to bring home another lady! You already have one here that you have not yet satisfied!"
Signor Acuto seemed to like what Lucia had done with Ezio's general appearance. The only change that he made to it was to get the young man to tie his hair back with a piece of ribbon.
"You're not a blushing virgin!" he remarked. "You don't need hair falling over your face like a veil!"
On the last day of December, he brought Ezio to a tavern near one of the marketplaces. The place was dimly lit with a cloud of smoke that hung like a mist in the air. The crowd in general seemed to consist of off-duty guardsmen and soldier-types.
"Now, no matter what happens, just remember to keep moving around and do not stay still," Signor Acuto advised.
Soon enough, a drunken customer stumbled unsteadily along the bar and knocked into another fellow, spilling his drink. The fellow struck him in the face in retaliation and the drunken man fell. Then some of his friends got up and confronted the fellow with the spilled drink… and soon enough, everyone in the bar was taking a swing at everyone else. Several of the customers tried to take a few pot shots at Ezio, but the young man dodged their blows or otherwise blocked them as he had been instructed. Soon, in the chaos, he found himself trying to fend off 3- 4 men who were so drunk they seemed unable to tell friend from foe.
As soon as the owner alerted the town guard who were on night duty, Signor Acuto and Ezio ran out of the place. Despite his best efforts, someone managed to land a fist on one side of his face, resulting in a perfect shiner on his left eye.
They did not stop running until they were back at Signor Acuto's house.
"Not too bad, although you still have much to learn," the old soldier remarked after examining Ezio. "Although I figure you could take a few blows in a fist fight, a blow could be lethal if someone was trying his best to kill you. You should aim to not be struck at all."
To his amazement, Lucia was in the parlour of the Acuto home waiting for them.
"I thought something like this might happen," the courtesan remarked as they entered the door. "Ezio, are you alright?"
"Shaken but not on the floor of the tavern," the old soldier replied. "I daresay he can defend himself somewhat but I'm not too sure if he can deal Vieri and his friends any true harm."
"Did I not say that he would be a good student?" the courtesan remarked.
"He has done sufficiently well," the old soldier smiled.
Lucia went over to the young man and whispered, "Do you know of anyplace where we can speak in private where no one will disturb us?"
Ezio led her though the cold December streets back to a house that she found tremendously familiar; in fact, it was the house that was opposite the fishmonger.
"Isn't your family in?" she asked anxiously.
"Yes, but follow me," he replied. He led her to a side of the house where there was an almost hidden enterence. Opening it, he led her up the narrow stairs to a balcony with a ladder to the roof. At the top was a flat roof with a pigeon coop and a small stack of hay.
'No one comes up here except for my little brother whose room is below. But he seldom comes up because he is always sick and has to stay in bed," he explained.
In the clear moonlight, Lucia drew close to Ezio and placed her small hands on his face.
"Is it painful?" she asked, touching the shiner.
Ezio tried to turn his face away so that she would not be looking directly at the scar on his mouth.
"No, don't turn away," she said, touching the scar. "You don't know just how good-looking you are."
She kissed his lips directly where the scar was.
The sensation caused a tingle that originated in his lips and spread throughout his entire body. He returned her kiss eagerly, tasting the sweetness of her rosebud lips.
She slid her hand down his pants and fondled him gently. Unused to the sensation, he almost pulled away from her.
"Oh no you don't!" she chided. " You aren't getting away from me again….. I've wanted to know you since that day when we were hiding in my room."
Feeling him harden, she pushed him down on the pile of hay and pulled down his pants. Then, spreading her thighs, she went down on him slowly. The pleasure he felt was indescribable. His stomach muscles clenched tightly and his body started to spasm in odd places. As she ground down on him, so that he was now deep inside of her, he found himself making all kinds of strange sounds, they broke though the calm of the silent night and somewhere in Ezio's mind, he hoped that no one in the house below was awakened because of all the grunting and panting.
Instinctively, his hips began to move and he started thrusting upwards into her, so that she rose lightly through the air almost like a bobbing ballerina. As he saw a look of surprise in her face, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. However, his unspoken question was answered when her inner muscles began tightly clenching onto him tightly and she opened her mouth, almost as if to scream, but there was no sound. Like perfectly paired dancers in an ancient dance, they seemed to move in unity, although no words passed between them, it was as though each knew exactly what to do at each turn. Then, like a star being born, Ezio felt something explode inside of him and there was a release and a warmth that flooded his entire body.
She leaned forward, her hands stoking his broad, firm chest, and kissed him again. When their lips parted, the sun rose on 1476.
In the feeble rays of the New Year sun, Ezio realized that his underside was starting to feel rather cold from lying on the roof as long as he did, and that two little brown eyes were peeking over the side of the roof at the both of them.
"Oh my god!" the young man exclaimed. Lucia moved so fast she got off Ezio and tried to hide behind him in a single swift motion. He scrambled to try and pull some hay over his naked bits.
"What on earth are you doing up here at this hour, Petuccio?!" his older brother yelled.
"It was quite noisy and I could not sleep, so I came up here to see what was making all the noise," his little brother replied with a wide-eyed innocent expression. "What were you both doing? Are you hurting my brother? He was gasping for air like a fish…." he directed his question at Lucia.
Before she could give a reply, Ezio swiftly interjected, "NO! We were NOT doing anything!"
"You're lying! Just like every other time you've been home late this year! Just like you lied to papa on that night when papa was taking to Federico about that Vieri person! You're doing something bad…. I'm gonna tell mama!" he disappeared swiftly from the edge.
Although he felt like running down into the house to stop his little brother, he took a moment to wrap the cloak around Lucia and show her the way down before making a mad dash into the house. He stopped by his room for a minute to throw on his big coat before running down the hallway to the dining room where he saw the small shape of his brother disappearing past the heavy wooden doors.
Running as fast as he could, he threw the doors open with a huge crash and stared into the faces of his entire family as they were having breakfast. Petuccio was sitting on his father's lap.
"Ezio. Where have you been all night, son?" his father's voice was unusually grave.
"Nowhere… papa," he gritted his teeth. His eyes shifted around the room from side to side.
"He's lying again!" the voice of his little brother chimed in. "He was up on the roof late last night with a lady and they were going …. Aaaahhhh! Aaaaaaahhhh!"
Ezio turned beet red before he started staring at the floor.
"Where is this lady? Why don't you ask her to come down and join us?" oddly enough his mother was smiling.
"There is NO LADY!" he muttered. " Petuccio was probably too tired and imagined it."
"Liar!" Petuccio's voice was much louder than it had ever been. "He's always lying, just like that night when Federico came in late and you were all talking about that Vieri person! He stayed up half the night crying and then before you all woke up, he went downstairs to the washing area and was furiously scrubbing the lace on his sleeves!"
There was a long pause and Ezio found tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. He stubbornly kept his gaze on the floor.
"Petuccio's got a wonderful imagination… What? Ezio's actually up on a rooftop?!" there was a look of disbelief in Federico's eyes. "The next thing you'll be telling me… little brother, is that our Ezio here is a mild-mannered banker by day and a deadly cut-throat by night…"
Silence.
The hush was so profound it would have shattered steel. Ezio however noticed nothing and merely breathed a sigh of relief.
"Ahem…" Giovanni cleared his throat nervously. "That's quite enough… Ezio, come over here and sit down." He pointed at a chair next to him. He took the chance during breakfast to look at his pallid younger son a little more closely.
The first thing he noticed was the obvious shiner on the left eye and the redness on his knuckles. The baby fat that was so much a feature on Ezio's face seemed to have receded a little so that a distinctive-looking chin was starting to show. And there was that look in his eyes, a haunted look at Giovanni knew quite well. The look of a man hunted.