#talondellaquila

On bright days like this one, Leonardo couldn’t help but carry one of his books for studies and sketches.  How could he resist the urge to capture each moment in a city such as Roma? The birds were flying nearby. How simple the day seemed.

But today would not be so simple. 

He sat straight on the bench, scanning the crowd for different faces. Admittedly, he was not sure what to expect for this little meeting--but he had hope that it would not end in violence. But he had come prepared. One could not be too careful.

As he waited, he began to sketch a bird in flight, his favorite to draw. It took all he could to tear his gaze away, beginning to sense he was not alone.

Blood rushed to his ears with every beat of his racing heart, muting his hearing and leaving him even more vulnerable. In a vicious cycle, his anxiety rose and his heart sped further. The assassin’s vision doubled and his boot slipped on the rooftop, sending him briefly to his knees.

The rain made his trek so much more dangerous, but he was so close to his destination. Normally quick, his thoughts were hazy and sluggish, but survival was his goal and there was one place where safety was guaranteed.

Ezio pushed himself shakily to his feet and crossed to the next rooftop… where he fell against the roof with a heavy thud and a gasp of breath. His senses whited out with pain, so he didn’t hear the footsteps as they approached.

     Sadly, the clammer of unrelenting rain does little to mask the odd thump in the middle of the night. Ever the light sleeper, pains of an ever-racing mind, Leonardo rose with a start, reaching at once for the candle by his work bench. The workshop remained empty... so the artist scaled the ladder to the roof of his little workshop. 

          “ Dio mio ! ”

The candle — of little use now since the flame was then swallowed by rain — fell from Leonardo’s hand as the artist rushed to his friend’s side. He could feel his own heart compete with the pounding of the rain. The sight of slumped body nearly stunned him. All he could think was ‘Please don’t be dead.’ The soft rise and fall of the body gave sign to breathing. Thank God. Leonardo understood that the assassin often put himself in harm’s way, and for a greater good, but at what cost? 

Leonardo had many questions, but now was not the time to ask, so after a moment of struggle, and using a rope and pulley, the artist lowered Ezio into the workshop and away from the unkind forces of nature. Despite his distress, the artist worked quickly. 

With one grand sweep, the artist cleared his work bench of books and loose papers. Some paintbrushes also clattered onto the wooden floor. The work bench made for a makeshift bed in the short time Leonardo assessed and dressed injuries. 

When he beseeched Cesare his mercy on the Assassin, Leonardo had hoped it would not be the cruel mercy of the Borgia. But he should have known it would come to this. And while the target was the Assassin, he knew he himself was under careful scrutiny of the ever paranoid Spaniard family. 

Still, Leonardo’s influence held strong. A Templar of his ranking had some word in these sorts of dealings and Cesare was, for all intents and purposes, a friend. And so he had some leeway. He had in his hands a basin of warm water and linen, as well as tools in a satchel so that he could clean and dress Ezio’s wounds.

He set them down just before the Assassin, setting to work on washing the wounds and scrubbing the dried blood. Sharp, intelligent eyes scanned over the other’s body for any infections or dire injuries. He needed to be methodical. There was no time for emotions here. And so he pushed them down, way down, keeping the tears at bay, the guilt buried deep in his heart. 

Leonardo hummed as he tapped his finger to his chin, his eyes skimming over the missive in his hand. More political intrigue and the like--it always exhausted him. He’d much prefer to dissect a corpse for anatomical studies, perhaps work on his botanical experiments. His mind wanders as he folds and sets the missive aside his drafts for his latest war machine. 

It is in this moment that Leonardo feels the Assassin’s arms around his waist suddenly; it’s as if his heart stops beating, a gasp caught in his throat, and he’s stiff in his grasp.

sentence starter meme | accepting

TRAINING TURNED TENSION STARTERS | ACCEPTING

Élise sighed. The Assassins’ methos were a lot different than the Templars’, and now that she was in a completely different time, even the techniques she had seen Arno used were not the same. Even the sword looked different. She had never realized how much she appreciated the one she had before this moment. The sword she now had was heavier, and she really would have to work to get used to it. 

LATE NIGHTS STARTERS | ACCEPTING

Élise couldn’t sleep so she had gotten outside. She was looking at the sky, at the stars. She wondered how she had ended up so far away from home, but physically but also in time. Everyone she knew and loved had weren’t even born in that time period. But there she was, receiving the help of an Assassin - she couldn’t say she minded though. Nothing was black or white, and Ezio was a good person, just like Arno had always been. Not all the Assassins were bad people - she wished more people would understand that.