#feducia

He then focused again on the track ahead of him, carefully finding nooks and ledges to grip upon, his mind racing with him.

Ezio had a point.

It had been his fault for keeping both of them up late.

And even after his younger brother had bid him good night and left him to his own thoughts, he hadn’t been able to find the peace of heart to lay down and rest. Each time he had tried to close his eyes, Lucia’s sweet smiling face would appear, and he would find himself even more awake than before.

She hadn’t been at the banquet the previous night. Or the night before that, for that matter.

No sign of her anywhere.

He had waited for what had seemed like hours, drinking and dancing and chatting with people he barely remembered meeting, hoping to just deafen his thoughts.

Whenever he had seen a lady genteel clad in blue making her way in the room, his heart would leap in his chest, only for it to be crushed at the realization that the woman wasn’t who his soul yearned to see.

Then, the Barbarigos had shown up.

But when Federico had seen Fiammetta, with her auburn hair and intriguing face, and Gemma, with her dark eyes and coquettish smile, accompanied as they were by their older brother Francesco, he hadn't been able to stop the grimace on his face.

He had done his best to hide the profound disappointment he had felt, even when Gemma had insisted on dancing with him all evening.

He had complied as he always did, ever the charming gentleman, and had danced around with the beautiful eldest daughter of the Doge, as if nothing was wrong and his whole heart wasn’t in disquiet.

But questions upon questions had started to pile up in his mind, especially after Gemma’s “not-so-subtle” remark about her sister.

"Oh, you know how Lucia is, Messer Federico," she had giggled, twirling in his arms. "Give her a book, and she will forget about the entire world. She hadn’t given the ball a second thought, not even when I told her that you and Ezio would be here,”.

Federico frowned at the memory, as he climbed a wall effortlessly, his hands finding holds to grip on with the ease given by years of experience.

He did know that Lucia loved to spend her days reading books upon books.

But he couldn’t believe that she had chosen not to participate at the feast, knowing that he would be there, knowing that they could finally meet again and share a dance together.

Not after the kisses that had happened between them.

Finally finding himself at the edge of the roof, he positioned himself to jump into a haystack beneath him but stopped in his tracks when a thought hit him, a second before the leap.

His eyes widened.

Was she...avoiding him? Because of those kisses?

An uneasiness started to creep up the back of his neck.

Maybe she had second thoughts? No, it couldn’t be that, he tried to reason with himself.

He knew that surely there was a motivation for her not showing up.

Taking a deep breath, he extended his long arms, and without fear, let his weight bring him down in the empty air, his eyes closing as he landed on his back in the hay.

“Look!” he heard Ezio saying, as he got out of the cart with a smooth movement. “Piazza San Marco is just over there.”

Federico reached for his brother, plucking away some stray hay that still lingered against the heavy fabric of his cape, but his keen eyes immediately trained directly to where the old square was.

Lowering his eyelids, he tapped into that sense that always allowed him to see beyond the thin veil of reality. When he opened them again, the whole world had fallen in a familiar penumbra that enveloped everything but the people around him, who instead were blazing like a kaleidoscope of colours; some green, some pearly white, none of them red, fortunately.

“Oh, yes, Federico, make sure to meet Lucia like that. It will not scare her out of her wits at all.” he heard Ezio behind him, chuckling.

He turned to look at his brother, showing his golden eyes in full.

“Just like it did the first time you have seen them, fratellino?”

“As if,” he scoffed. “I was playing along!”

“Sure you were. And you crying in Mother’s arms all night that a wolf spirit had taken possession of me? That was also you playing along, right?”

"It was a jest!"

"Sure it was, Ezio,"

Ezio rolled his eyes, annoyed. “I was six, Federico!”

“Claudia was younger than that when she saw them the first time. Petruccio as well,”

Blushing, Ezio snorted. “Yes! I get the point! Weren’t you busy looking for the Barbarigos?”

“Awhoooo,” howled Federico, chuckling, despite the uneasiness he felt in his chest at the mention of the Venetian family.

Once more, he turned his head toward the square, and after skimming through the crowd, his eyes were trained toward a group of green figures walking under one of the porches of the Palazzo Ducale.

He immediately recognized the Doge’s immense figure and his wife, the Dogessa Isabella Soranzo, ever virtuous; their son Francesco and daughters Lavinia, Gemma and Fiammetta were all walking ordinately behind them; at their side were Federico and Ezio’s own parents, Maria and Giovanni, immersed in conversation with the leader of the Republic, and just behind them, gentle Petruccio and Claudia, busy talking with the children of the Doge..

All of them engulfed in green.

All of them allies.

But the golden aura he expected to see engulfing the very one his heart desired was nowhere to be seen.

“Merda,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“Elusive as a cat this girl of yours, eh, fratellone?” Ezio chuckled. But when he turned to look at his brother, he saw disquiet in his golden eyes, all the previous joviality gone. “You alright?”

Federico didn’t answer right away, the knot in his stomach becoming tighter by the second.

Gemma had assured him that Lucia would be present. She had guaranteed him that she herself would make sure her younger sister was to meet with him and his family that day.

And yet again, there was no trace of her.

He narrowed his eyes, grimacing, as he looked at the beautiful blonde woman, laughing at something her brother had just said.

He couldn't stop thinking about Gemma's words, the previous night, and that mischievous, cruel light in her dark eyes when she had told him that Lucia hadn't given him a second thought.

Something deep within his soul told him they were not true.

He knew Lucia.

And he knew that she would never avoid him on purpose

She may have not told him that she loved him yet, but he knew she did love him.

The way she always looked at him and smiled, as if he were the Sun at dawn, appearing on the horizon to bring light and life to the world;

The way her voice always seemed to tremble when she dared to call him by his first name, whenever she let her emotions through;

It was all there.

Unspoken, yet as loud as a song.

“I need to check on Lucia," he murmured, pulling his beaked-shaped hood on his golden eyes.

"Do you want me to cover for you?"

Federico pondered for a moment, duty and heart fighting their eternal battle.

"Father will not be pleased," he then said.

"And neither will you if you don't see your Tortorella ," Ezio said, not unkindly. "Besides, I'd rather listen to Father's rant than yours.'Oh, Lucia, Lucia, why have thou forsaken me, mia bella Lucia?'" Ezio said, mocking his older brother, an affectionate light in his dark eyes.

"You are insufferable, fratellino," grinned Federico.

"But I am also right," he chuckled. "Father will understand. You'll see. We'll meet later on,"

Federico smiled and patted his brother's shoulder in an affectionate gesture.

"I owe you one,"

"Yes, you do. Now go!"

Federico nodded and then turned on his heels, running in the opposite direction of Piazza San Marco, his destination Dorsoduro, the district where Lucia's home was.

*****

«Amor, ch’al cor gentil ratto s’apprende,                                 

« Love, that on gentle heart doth swiftly seize,

prese costui de la bella persona                                             

Seized this man for the person beautiful

che mi fu tolta; e ‘l modo ancor m’offende.                             

That was ta'en from me, and still the mode offends me.

Amor, ch’a nullo amato amar perdona,                                     

Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving,

mi prese del costui piacer sì forte,                                           

Seized me with pleasure of this man so strongly,

che, come vedi, ancor non m’abbandona.                                 

That, as thou seest, it doth not yet desert me;

Amor condusse noi ad una morte.                                             

Love has conducted us unto one death;

Caina attende chi a vita ci spense» . 

Caïna waiteth him who quenched our life!"»

Lucia sighed, her own heart clenching in her chest as she read those words.

“Condemned to travel through a fiery storm for the rest of their life, with no power to do anything, guilty of the sin of loving each other, more than life itself...now, that does sound familiar,” she mused, when a sad grimace appeared on her face, “But at least they were together in that eternity.”

The young woman lowered her book against her breast, her sorrowful hazel eyes looking up toward the immense pristine vault of the sky.

That morning she had feigned sudden indisposition, and decided to remain home.

Despite the guilt she had felt for lying to her dear father and mother, she had to do so.

She didn’t have any will to go to mass with her sisters, just so Lavinia could try and push her to talk with Tiziano again.

No matter how much her older sister thought that he was "the perfect match" for Lucia, no matter how much she praised his virtues and noble blood and his good looks, she didn’t harbour in her heart any feelings that might even resemble the vestige of love.

She couldn't bring herself to fancy that man, who was almost twenty years her senior and whose only redeeming quality in her eyes was the fact that he was silent most of the time.

Not when all of that she was, all that she had ever been, yearned for another man.

“Federico Auditore,” she beamed, her voice a low murmur.

How even just the sound of his name was so sweet to her heart!

Sitting upright, she brought her knees against her chest, wrapping them with her arms and hiding her lovesick eyes from the world.

She couldn’t help her soul from yearning for him, as the soil yearned for the gentle rain during the blazing summer days.

How could she, when each one of her thoughts was for him and him alone? When, whenever she sat at her balcony, scouring the roofs around her, she hoped to see him climb up the walls and visit her? Or, she thought blushing, when she closed her eyes at night and her memories would always find their home in those hidden kisses they had shared together?

What would she give to meet him again!

But God had other plans for me, she thought, grimacing.

She had waited all week for that planned meeting with the Auditores, spending each night thinking about what she would wear, what she would say to Federico, almost rehearsing so that she would not fumble with her words.

She had almost been caught by Gemma and Francesco, but when she had quickly said that she was castigating Martino, her cat, for ruining her sash, they seemed to believe her.

And so, that very morning at dawn, after a night of restless sleep, she had woken up to prepare herself for the blessed Saturday ahead of her, when she would finally see his smile, hear his voice...hopefully share a secret kiss again.

Then Gemma had come in, just before they were bound to break their fast, and bore the news to her that the Auditores siblings would not be present that day without so much as an explanation, only to proceed to tell her, in great detail, how she had spent the whole evening before in their company; how she had danced with Federico in his strong arms because he had requested for her to be with him that evening, how she had shared with him the same meal and the same goblet of wine, laughing and smiling together.

“But you told me he would not be there, Gemma!” she remembered saying in a daze, her heart threatening to break.

“I know, sorellina! So, you can imagine my surprise when I saw him arrive, as handsome as Apollo himself,” Gemma had murmured, smiling that radiant smile that made her look like an angel.

A fallen one, Lucia had thought, but kept it for herself.

“Aww, don’t be so sad, ‘Cia,” Gemma had said, kissing her cheek and grinning at her when she saw her frown. “There will be many other balls to attend to. Besides, Tiziano as well wasn’t there, so you truly didn’t have any reason to be at the ball anyway. You know,” she had whispered then, her smile widening even more. “If I play my cards right, I might become an Auditore before the end of summer!”

Lucia had felt all air leaving her stomach, as if those words had the power to physically hurt her, the bitter bile burning the back of her throat.

She had to excuse herself from the room, her disappointment far too great to be concealed to her ever-knowing sister.

Martino nuzzled against her cheek, snapping her out of her memories and eliciting a sad smile on her lips.

"I miss him so much, Martino, and I know you do too," she whispered, caressing the small furry head. "I just wish father would see sense, and at least consider the possibility of a union between me and Federico, rather than one with Gemma,"

She knew the feasibility of something like that happening was slim, what with Gemma constantly singing the praises of the eldest of the Auditores’ siblings to their father, her interest in him so evident Lucia always felt sick in the stomach by it.

All that let her keep faith was the fact that Agostino Barbarigo rarely listened to Gemma and her flights of fancy, knowing that his eldest daughter was prone to let her heart wander and knowing that, as the oldest daughter of the Doge, she would most likely end up becoming the wife of a Sforza or a Badoer rather than a signorotto of a minor noble house from Firenze.

“But what if, this time around, he will listen to her, Martino?” She murmured, picking the cat in her arms and hugging him tight against her chest, trying to find whatever comfort she could in his soft purring. “What if they are to become man and wife under God?”

It was true, their father had been grumbling all week about “those Auditores boys always buzzing around his family”, always acting annoyed by the constant attentions of the three young men toward his daughters.  But Gemma was already past the age to be married, so what if he would actually seize the opportunity and join their House with the Auditores’ through his eldest child?

A cold shiver ran down her spine, despite the warm sun of May blazing in the sky.

“That will not come to pass,” she murmured, the flame of anger engulfing her heart. “Not if I have to take all the courage I have and declare all I feel for Federico to my family,”

She would not give up on her love for him.

She will never give up on her love for him.

“I will make a fool of myself in front of all of Piazza San Marco, if necessary,” she whispered to her cat, who raised his head to look at her with his big yellow eyes. He mewled as if to answer her. “And if...If he were to love me back, I would have a priest marry us in secret! You just wait and see, Martino!”

She was the youngest one among her sisters and everyone always thought of her as the meekest one, the complacent one, the forgettable one.

Her father constantly praised her for her rectitude and exemplary moral conduct, something that grated her nerves more than she was willing to admit.

She was more than just that.

Brushing a wayward dark hair behind her ear, standing up with a fluid movement while kissing the top of Martino’s head with tenderness.

“Such a virtuous daughter I am,” she sighed. “Spending my days dreaming about being kissed by a man I can't be with, instead of devoting myself to my studies...”

But he had kissed her. He had.

"And such a sweet kiss at that, Martino!" She giggled, letting the sweetness of that memory wash all over her, as she started to walk around her garden on the fresh grass, uncaring that it might stain the edges of her skirt. “I never knew a man could have lips so soft!”

The cat looked at her with an unfazed gaze, unimpressed.

“Oh, come now! A little enthusiasm, for my sake?” she asked, bopping his little black nose with her finger, as she reached her favourite tree, the colorful magnolia. She leaned against the trunk, gazing at the beautiful flowers that dangled around her in a beautiful curtain. “You are the only one I can tell all of this! The only one that truly knows how much I love him!”

Ignoring her once more, the cat raised his black head and trailed on her shoulder, in order to climb on one of the branches of the tree.

"What did you see, fuzzball?" she chuckled, not moving until the cat was gone.

She heard a meow and the soft rustle of leaves. “Yes, Yes, I got it. Leave me here all alone with my flight of fancy and go and enjoy your birds, you adorable canaja!”

“I must say, I’ve been called many things in my life, but ‘adorable canaja’ is a first,” a low voice said back.

Lucia’s eyes widened, her head snapping in the direction where the sound came from.

She found him immediately.

Nestled between the branches of the magnolia, with Martino purring against his chest, was Federico Auditore himself, his eyes gleaming in golden light and a small smile on his face.

“Buon Dio, Messer Auditore!” Lucia screamed, jumping on her spot, her heart racing up in her chest. The Assassin leaped down the branches, landing on light feet in front of her. ”What are you doing here?...what happened to your eyes?”

He closed his eyelids for a fraction of a moment, and the gold was soon replaced by his usual dark brown.

Lucia sucked in a sharp breath.

“Is this magic? How did you do that?” suddenly furrowing her brows, she dared to bring her hands to his face, uncaring of her own timidity. “Did it hurt? Are you hurt?”

Federico couldn’t help the grin that spread on his lips at that soft touch. It took all his strength not to lean against her small palms and cover them in kisses.

“No, Madonna Lucia. It didn’t hurt me at all. You can say I was born this way. Ezio too.”

“You...were born with the eyes of an owl?” she asked, relieved to know that he wasn’t in any pain. A wide smile appeared instead: she had always loved owls. “Can you see through the night just like them? Oh, aspettate! Is this the reason you can jump from roof to roof without any effort?”

Forgetting about the sudden scare, her voice was filled with excitement. She had never seen anything like that in her life. “I wouldn’t say ‘without any effort’, but yes. Something of that sort,” he chuckled, lowering his eyes when he felt Martino pushing his head against his chest, demanding attention. “Hello to you too, bischero,” he murmured, caressing the cat under his chin.

Lucia smiled in front of that sight: there was something so endearing in seeing such a big man like him being so gentle and kind toward an animal.It filled her heart with such sweetness and made her forget about everything else that had happened ever since the prior night.

"I'm sorry I scared you, Mia Signora," Federico said, letting the cat go up the tree again.

When he turned around, though, his eyes widened, as he looked at her with greater attention.

“You really should start using the door to access the garden, Messer Auditore! You will kill me with fear one of these days!” she reprimanded, not unkindly, her smile so wide on her face she radiated pure joy to show him that she wasn’t angered.

There was a small pause, as she saw his eyes trailing from her face down toward her body, his gaze caressing her in a way she had never seen him do before.

“You will kill me by looking like that, Lucia,” Federico finally whispered, his breath hitching in the back of his throat.

The young woman’s heart stopped in her chest: was she looking hideous? Her hair not styled as neatly as usual? Her gown smudged and stained by the grass or Martino’s little paws?

Her thoughts stopped in their tracks, her eyes widening.

Lucia’s face grew red with embarrassment when she suddenly remembered.

Her gown

She wasn’t donning any gown, just the sleeveless chemise she wore to sleep.

Oh no.

OH NO!

“Madre di Dio! I-I need to go back inside,” she fumbled, bringing her arms in front of her chest, trying to protect her modesty as much as she could. She wanted to drown in the canal that bordered her house.

But before she could actually flee, she felt his big warm hand wrapping around her arm, gentle but firm.

“Lucia, don’t...please,” he asked, his voice low, almost pleading. “If you go, Il Signore soltanto knows if you’d come back to me,”

“But...” she whispered, “I cannot stay as I am now!”

Without skipping a beat, Federico soon started to unhook the buttons of his doublet and untie his blue cape.

“Oh, Santissima Madre di Dio!” she squealed, turning to face the other way. “Messer Auditore, have you truly come here to cause my death? I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to take off your clothes! What if one of the servants were to see us?”

She kept her eyes averted, trying to focus on the rustling sound of the fabrics, instead of the patch of his bare skin that she had inadvertently just seen. Her cheeks prickled, the red spreading from her face to her neck as her thoughts ran free to all the times she actually had imagined him without garments, kissing that bare skin while being held in his arms.

“I don’t think it’s inappropriate for a man to help preserve the modesty of the woman he admires the most,” Federico murmured, covering her bare shoulders with his blue cape. “Besides, this magnolia is thick enough that no one would see us here! And I am only taking my cape off, not all of my clothes,” although God only knows how much I’d want to take off the rest, both mine and yours, amore mio, he mused, a pool of fire litting up in his belly. But the thought never passed his lips.

His hands lingered on her arms for a moment longer than necessary, and he felt his heart in throat, his eyes wandering unrestrained, fully taking in all that she was.

It took all his willpower not to pull her against him and clutch her against his chest, to turn that sweet face he dreamt so often and cover it in kisses, finally letting out all he felt in his soul and that he constantly had to keep secluded.

“Besides, blue compliments you the most, mia cara Signora,"He cleared his throat, trying to distract himself from those thoughts, knowing all too well where they would bring him.

Lucia lowered her head to hide her burning face, focusing her hazel eyes on the cape now wrapped around her torso, how soft it was, her heart skipping a beat when she thought that it had been on his shoulder for all that time. She brought it against her face, almost an indirect caress of its owner against her skin.

“It is such a beautiful garment, Messer Auditore,” she murmured, before looking into his eyes once again. “But I have to say, I never thought you’d favour blue, of all colors.”

“I don’t,” he whispered back, a twinkle in her eyes. “But this cape holds a meaning that goes much deeper than mere aesthetics.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, she looked once more, her gaze focusing on what was embroidered on it with golden threads.

Her eyes widened at the needlework.

“Il Leone di San Marco...Il Simbolo della Serenissima,” she breathed, her mouth agape. “But…why?”

He took a deep breath, his dark eyes growing softer.

“it’s where my heart has found its home, Lucia,”

A chasm opened in her stomach, a cold feeling invading her body.

Oh no.

Please, God, no.

“Venezia?” she asked tentatively. She couldn’t bear to hear his lips utter her sister’s name.

“You could say so,” He chuckled, giving her his brightest smile. “One of the Figlie della Laguna has decided to keep me here with her, apparently,” he joked, his voice warm with love.

Lucia paused, her hands trembling.

“Shouldn’t you be with her, then?” she asked, swallowing hard. “Why did you come here? My family is in Piazza San Marco. Gemma is there.”

Confusion appeared in Federico’s dark eyes. What had Gemma to do with that?

“Yes, I know. I was there not long ago. But you weren’t, Lucia?  Just like you weren’t at the ball yesterday and I... well, I have been waiting all week to finally meet you again, properly…officially. Why weren’t you there?

“You wanted to see me?” she asked, incredulous. “But Gemma said-”

But she stopped, unable to continue.

Could it have all been a misunderstanding? An honest mistake?

She bit her lip.

Gemma had said that Federico had asked her to dance with him all evening, though, and as much as she wanted not to believe her, she didn’t want to think of her sister as a liar. And now she didn’t want to put Gemma in a bad light in front of Federico either.

She might not like her as much as she should and they might not be as close as she wished to, but Gemma was still her sister, and she couldn’t calumniate her like that, not in front of Federico.

So, she kept her silence, fighting the impulse to hide her face in her hands.

Federico’s smile disappeared in front of her reaction, a chill of fear running down his spine.

Could it truly be that she was avoiding him?

“Gemma said that you were too busy reading. That you haven’t given the fact that I would be there a second thought and chose not to come.” he blurted out before he could stop himself, the disappointment in his voice palpable. "Is that true? You didn't want to see me?"

Lucia’s head snapped toward him.

“What? No! That’s a lie! Gemma told me that you would not be there, and that’s the only reason I decided to not participate!” her voice was higher than she intended to. Wringing her hands against her chest, she took a deep breath.

She raised her eyes, looking at him most earnestly.

“This morning, while I was getting ready to finally meet you, Gemma told me all about the ball, and how she had danced with you all night. She told me she was surprised to see you arrive,” her voice broke, unable to utter the rest of what her sister had told her. “She also told me that you wouldn’t be present today, because you were otherwise preoccupied.”

Federico’s stare darkened.

“Lucia, aspettate,” he said, gently posing one of his hands on her arm, trying to contain his anger toward Gemma for Lucia's sake. “Did Gemma tell you that she didn’t know I would be at the ball? Did she tell you those exact words?”

The younger woman nodded, her big hazel eyes silently pleading him to believe her.

“Lucia...your sister knew that I would be present. She had sent messages all week to both me and Ezio, to tell us that she couldn’t wait to meet us there.” he caressed her soft cheek when he saw a stray tear escaping her eye. “Your sister has lied to both of us,” he said, his voice a low growl of ire.

He had seen that kind of behaviour before: sister against sister, brother against brother, and wasn’t surprised by it. He had learned long ago that the love they showed to one another in his family was not the norm.

But, he hated to see those duplicitous games unfold in Lucia’s family, especially if they were the cause for her tears.

“Why?” She then asked, her voice trembling. “Why would she lie to me? Does she love you so much that she would just hurt her own blood for it?”

Federico scoffed at that affirmation. “One thing I know about your sister is that she doesn’t love me. At all. She loves the prestige that comes with my family’s name, that comes from knowing that my father is close to Il Magnifico in Firenze. She is in love with the lifestyle she would have by marrying into my family. But, Lucia, Gemma doesn’t love me.”

Lucia pursed her lips, feeling her heart throbbing in her ears, as she tried to find the courage to utter the words she needed to say.

She could face her sister’s lies another time.

Now she needed to hear the truth that would either make her sing with joy or break her heart beyond the possibility of redemption.

“And...and what about you, Messer Auditore?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Do you…” she gulped. ” Do you love her?”

Federico couldn’t help the small chuckle that left his lips.

“God no, Lucia. I don’t. I never had and I never will. She is not the one I want by my side. Not today, not ever!” he murmured. “No, the one that I want has her adorable nose always buried in her book. I do wonder, from time to time, that if I were to don Messer Alighieri’s garments, maybe she would notice me.”

He gave her a smile and a mischievous wink.

Lucia didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she let it all out, feeling blood rushing in her cheeks again. Could it be…?

“Then...who is this Figlia della Laguna that has taken your heart, if you don’t mind me asking?" She said, the corners of her mouth rising up with just a tiny hint of impishness.

Federico’s heart skipped a bit at that sight. He took a step closer to her, cradling her face in his hands, his eyes so filled with warmth and love Lucia couldn't help but sigh.

His lips found hers, brushing tentatively at first, then more secure, when he saw her yielding to him, so willing to get lost in him, just as much as he was to get lost in her.

"Who do you think it is, Lucia?" He murmured between each little peck he gave her.

Lucia's hands found their way to his robe, balling it in her fists, while he closed the distance between them, gently pulling her against his chest as he leaned against the trunk of the tree to support both of them.

"Maybe...maybe Lavinia?" She giggled, when she felt his lips trailing on her neck and giving her a playful kiss where her pulse was.

"Mmm...not really my type," he chuckled, nipping at the skin. "As I said, I am partial to a woman who happens to adore her books more than anything…"

He kissed her nose.

"...with hazel eyes..."

He kissed her closed eyelids.

"...cheeks constantly on fire, because she is always blushing just by hearing the sound of my voice..."

He kissed both of them reverently, before trailing back to her lips, brushing his against hers once more.

"...and a heart as big as the whole Laguna…Does she sound familiar to you?

“She does. And she sounds like a disaster,” She giggled, hiding her face against his chest.

“More like a little too busy spending her time with Messer Virgilio and Messer Alighieri,” he chuckled, kissing the top of her head. “Soon, I might have to challenge them to duel for your attention and your heart, mia Signora,”

Lucia chortled at that.

“I am quite sure that you’d have the upper hand anyway, Messer Auditore. You always had it.”

“Did I?” he asked, brushing a wayward lock of hair away from her face.

“Yes.” She raised her head, and took a deep breath, calling upon all the courage she had in her heart.

But looking into his dark eyes, so beautiful, so gentle, so full of love -because now she had no doubt, he loved her- she found the strength to utter those words she always only whispered against her pillow at night.

“I love you, Federico.”  she whispered, her cheeks burning. “I have loved you since the first time you have barged in this garden.”

A warm smile spread on the young man's lips, and unable to stop himself he took her face in his hands and dived to kiss her deeply, the happiness he felt impossible to be contained.

“So,” he murmured, when he broke the kiss, “It truly appears that I don’t have to compete with Messer Alighieri for your affections, since you finally called me ‘Federico’?” She giggled, brushing her nose against his. “I told you: you never had to. Were you willing to claim it, this disaster of heart that I have is yours until the day it beats his last beat. I am a woman of my word,”

He tightened his hold around her, peppering her face with kisses.

“Disaster or not, amore mio, it’s mine to claim, the only one I dream so often about, sometimes I don’t know what’s real and what’s just fantasy,”

“Perhaps…” she whispered with a smile, burying her face in his chest. She blushed at herself for what she was about to say. “…Some of these days we could...make these dreams of yours a reality?”

Picking up her courage, she kissed the small patch of bare skin that peaked through the linen of the robes, wrapping her arms around his waist, feeling the pulse of his heart against her lips.

He closed his eyes at that touch, a shiver of pleasure running down his spine.

“Is my tortorella suggesting what I think she is suggesting?” he choked a little on his words, pulling her close in his embrace, and kissing the top of her head, trying as he might to calm the fire within him.

But she didn’t answer out loud, her eyes speaking the wish that wouldn’t not pass beyond her lips.

Federico brushed one finger beneath her chin, tilting her head so that she would look at him,

“I love you, Lucia,” he said in a hushed voice, the last words he spoke.

He kissed her so deeply like he had never done before, both their hearts running in their chests like wild horses in a wide prairie.

His lips trailed down her jaw, sweet kisses, soft kisses, as delicate as feathers, his fingers fumbling with the lace that held her chemise close, protecting her modesty.

They couldn’t wait any longer. They didn’t want to wait any longer.

But before they could go any further, Martino landed on Federico’s shoulder, startling them both and bringing them back to reality.

“Martino!” exclaimed Lucia, trying to muffle a laugh behind her hand, when she saw Federico’s annoyed face.

“I swear,” he grumbled, taking the cat by his scruff. “If I didn’t know how much Lucia loves you, pissero, I would have already given you to Ezio to make a hat out of you!”

At the sound of the younger Auditore’s name, the cat hissed.

Lucia took him in her arms for a moment, soothing him. “Don’t listen to him, mio Martino. He wouldn’t dare,” she grinned.

She looked at Federico, his flushed face a sight to behold, and felt an ache deep within her, something she wasn’t sure she’d be able to quench.

Letting her cat down, she soon found herself in the Assassin's arms again, his lips already on hers before she could be able to utter the secret wish she had in her heart.

“Madonna Lucia! Madonna Lucia! A message for you, Madonna Lucia!” a loud voice came shouting from the house, calling for her.

Groaning, Federico and Lucia broke their kiss, looking into each other’s eyes.

“Never a moment of tranquillity in the Barbarigos’ household, eh, amore mio?” he sighed, not wanting to let her go.

She blushed at him calling her his love. “I wish.”

She forced herself away from him, wanting anything but having to leave the comfort of his arms.

“I... I have to see what’s all about, before the servants come and look for me...and find you and me like this,”

He chuckled, before taking her hand in his.

“Aspettate, Lucia...you will be back to me, right?” She hesitated one moment.

“I will...unless someone is calling upon me,” his dark eyes turned sad after hearing that, and her heart clenched in her chest. She wanted to be with him, more than anything. Suddenly, an idea found her way in her head. “But...it would be terrible if I were to deny my presence because I have already agreed to a previous engagement with a man of honour,” she suggested, her eyes gleaming impishly.

He grinned.

“That would be truly unfortunate indeed. Well, Madonna Barbarigo,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles, ever so lightly. “Would you be so kind as to favour this poor man with your time, on this fair Saturday afternoon?”

“Am I allowed to dress up first?” she giggled. Federico was about to talk, but she brought her fingers to his lips. “Wait. Do not answer that, because I think I know what you’d say,”

“Why, Madonna Lucia, I am a man of honour! I would never say anything inconvenient!”

She raised an eyebrow, a smirk appearing on her lips.

“You wouldn’t,” she tiptoed to reach his face. “But I might want you to say it,” she whispered against his lips, before planting a sweet kiss on them.

And before he could answer that, Lucia fled, his blue cape still on her shoulders flowing behind her, and her laughter ringing high in the warm air of that beautiful spring day.

Federico let out a low chuckle, his eyes accompanying her as far as his gaze could, his heart bursting in his chest with joy.

He loved her.

And she loved him in return.

“She is the woman I’ll marry, Martino,” he said, crouching down to pat the cat’s little head, a smile gracing his face. “You just wait and see.”

Happy Valentine's Day. I am sorry for not being able to bring you something new for this day, but I didn't have the time to truly prepare anything.

However, this is a great occasion to reshare, in full, one of my fluffiest pieces with my OTP when it comes to Assassin's Creed 2, there is to say Dashing Federico Auditore and Sweet Lucia Barbarigo, my darling Venetian Lady. I wrote this a while ago, but I am still super happy with it, and truly makes me miss those two lovelies that deserve ALL HAPPINESS and LOVE. <3

I hope you will like this! <3

23. Who asks who out on the first date?

two different answers. In their Canon!AU, Jacob is the one asking her out for their first date together (and just to make it extra special, their first date takes place the night of her birthday). This would actually happen after they both found out about their respective allegiances (and it happened after a most peculiar 'meeting', so to speak,but I cannot go too much into detail, for it is a moment that will happen in the story). Jacob would visit her one night, infiltrating into her room and risking being caught by the Templars patrolling Starrick Manor just to bring her a formal invitation to join him for a date. It may or may not end up with her giving him a *gasp* kiss on the cheek. Allegedly. Circumstantially Speaking. There were no witnesses around. They cannot prove anything.

In their Modern!AU, instead, Dorothea is the one asking Jacob out first. She knows he is one of the mercenaries working under her father, and she is fully aware that her dad would not be pleased to know that her daughter is mingling with people on his payroll, but Dorothea doesn't truly care about this. She has a crush on Jacob, and she wanted to go out with him, so, hoping that he would say yes, she asks him out for a coffee. Little does she knows that Jacob has a crush on her as well.😏

31.Who is more affectionate?

It depends on the context. As a general rule, Jacob is the one that shows his affection to Dorothea more openly, constantly hugging her, kissing her and overall looking for her physical presence, because having her by his side gives him comfort and peace of mind and soul.

He genuinely love to spend time with her, and always tries to find ways to demonstrate how much he cares for her through constant physical touch. It's reassuring for both him and her, and it something that somehow helps him staying grounded in the present.

Dorothea, on the other hand, is more subdued in the way she shows her affection for him, and this stems from the education and upbringing that she had. Nevertheless, the depth of her feelings for him run as deep as his feelings for her do, and she always makes sure to show this properly when they are around and about. She wants him to know that she loves him with all that she is, so she does it with subtle gestures, especially when they are in public: a tiny squeeze of his hand, a gentle caress on his arms; something subtle and if slightly inappropriate for the Victorians. But, it’s safe to say that, when she and Jacob are in the privacy of their own rooms and their own house, Dorothea becomes just as affectionate as Jacob, if not even more so. She goes to him to hug him tightly against her, kisses his cheeks and nose, for example, and she overall tries as much as she can to show him all the love she has for him.

36.Who is the social media addict?

Neither are addicted to social media, in truth. However, the one that checks more often is Dorothea. She is the daughter of Crawford Starrick, a billionaire magnate that rules a whole financial empire, and so, much like her brother Adam, she is subjected to media attention despite her will. Dorothea is heavily involved in using her social image to bring attention to charities and situations that require attention, and she is not afraid of using her family’s money and good name in order to accomplish this, even if this means having a social media presence far greater than she'd like. However, she never posts anything about her private life.

Jacob, instead, has an account where he mostly posts pictures of Ophelia and Mops, his and Dottie’s Corgi and Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. Jacob doesn’t truly care about being in the spotlight, and that’s a job that he leaves gladly to Dottie. He does love to play games though.

7.Who sweats the small stuff?

I’d say the one that is the most worrywart is Lucia, but not that much truly. Lucia is pretty carefree in her behaviour and the way she approaches life. Being the youngest one of her siblings, born right after Fiammetta, truly shielded her somehow, because she never had the responsabilities Gemma and Lavinia had, and due to her quiet, gentle if quirky disposition, her mother and father never truly considered her to be the suitable bride for a powerful Noble house outside of Venezia. Therefore, she has lived a peaceful life without having to worry too much about anything.

Federico as well, is truly not that worrywart. True, he is not as carefree and easy going as he was in his youth, but he still retains that relaxed attitude he was always famous for. This doesn't apply though when it comes to each other: in that sense, they do become more worrisome when the other's wellbeing is involved, and because of this, they are fiercely protective of each other.

21.Who has an obsession (over anything):

LUCIA. BOOKS. ITALIAN POETS OF THE RENAISSANCE. DANTE. PETRARCA. DOLCE STIL NOVO. So yes, Lucia is the one obsessed with books. Needless to say, when she moved to Firenze with Federico, after escaping from Venezia and her parents’ ire, she found as much comfort in knowing that, even if she wasn’t surrounded by the watery canals of the Serenissima, she is in Firenze, breathing the same air Dante breathed and walking the same places he did.

24.Who is the talker/ Who is the listener?

This one is easy! Federico is the talker, always ready to engage with Lucia in discourse about literally anything. He can be a bit of a motormouth, especially when he feels particularly relaxed or nervous, but Lucia doesn’t mind one bit. She is the listener par excellence, and doesn’t mind sitting in Federico’s lap, under the magnolia planted in her garden, just listening to his voice and looking at his lovely, smiling face, seeing how animated it becomes whenever he talks about something that he finds particularly interesting.

27.Who takes a long shower/ Who sings in the shower?

In a modern AU, both love to take long showers, especially during summertime, when the hot weather of the Italian Peninsula can be just unbearable (both in Venezia and Firenze, good gods above, the humidity literally clings to your skin). Sometimes they love to take showers together, and Lucia adores her just to give him a massage on his shoulders while lathering his skin with soap, just like Federico loves to help her take care of her long hair (that always requires assistance to be that straight and that glossy). He just loves to bring her to his chest and hug her under the running water. It’s just a moment of pure bliss for both of them.

As for the one who sings in the shower: it’s Federico. Hands down. When he showers by himself, he brings his phone with him and puts the playlist he has for showering, singing his heart out. Lucia cannot help but listen with a fond smile on her face. Once, she caught him singing “Rock you like a Hurricane” by Scorpions, and when he got out of the shower, the exchange that followed went more or less like this:

Lucia, with a teasing smirk: “So, you are going to do it?”

Federico, confused: “What do you mean?”

Lucia, tiptoeing and kissing his chest: “Rock me like a Hurricane?”

Federico would just be caught off guard and left with his mouth hanging open, blushing a little because Lucia doesn’t often make those kinds of remarks.

(And yes, he did rock her like a hurricane, afterwards lol)

41. Who cries during sad movies?

No surprise here: Lucia is the one crying during sad movies, although Federico as well has been known to shed a few tears every once in a while.The only movie where he cannot truly contain his tears is the 1968 version of “Romeo and Juliet” by Zeffirelli. There is something in that movie that alway brings him on the verge of silent tears. He would just turn to look at Lucia, take her in his arms and kiss the top of her head to hide the tears against her hair.

Such a mystery as to why it makes him cry so much.

THANK YOU SO MUCH, ZINKY!! I HAD SO SO MUCH FUN!! I truly loved this questions! <3