March 12, 1481
Venice, Italy
Catherine tried to tell Ezio. Really, she did.
However, it seemed life had other ideas.
That is, Antonio had other ideas. Of course, he had no idea of her plans, but his timing was impeccable.
She had gathered all the courage she needed the following morning, and had even been ready to say something when one of the thieves—Ugo, she eventually remembered—came knocking. Evidently the leader of the thieves already had something for them to do and it was only their second day. Duty came first, though, which meant the redhead put her confession on hold and the two of them got to work. It was nothing terribly difficult, and even coincided with their scouting, as Antonio had a task for them in the sectors they hadn't really explored as thoroughly. He advised not venturing too far out of the district they were in now, but do as they needed to get things done. The task? A simple recon of where some thieves might be held or where certain people of interest would be.
So off they went, back in their proper gear. They had split up to cover more ground, but it took longer than expected to find what all they needed. The city was still new and somewhat confusing, and the archers proved another bane. They were simple enough to avoid, but the city wasn't the easiest to navigate if you didn't know it perfectly, and so Catherine often found herself back tracking until she finally got the hang of things. That, or she would make quick leaps across the canals to new areas and go from there. She would have just preferred to dwindle the archers' numbers, but they were still unknown even after yesterday's fight—there had been a ruckus during the night apparently, but no one seemed to know what had happened or who did what—so it was better to play it safe. Still, running the roofs to find people would provide a better view.
Catherine made do, though, and soon enough she located the first target: a merchant, clad in a green tunic with rims of gold and a feathered hat. She didn't really know why Antonio wanted her to find him, but she did it anyways, and made note of the location on the small map she'd brought with her. A quick etch on the paper with a piece of charcoal, and it was done. She did make sure to follow the man a little since he was out and about, and found a rather elegant house he shut himself into. She marked that down, too, and then headed out once more.
It was almost midday now, and more people were walking around. Unfortunately, that also meant more eyes to notice her, and she definitely stood out on her own. She was able to keep her eyes hidden under her hood, but she saw the looks—the glances. Mostly raised brows and hushed whispers, but there were some shakes of the head, sneers, and gazes that made her want to cringe. She could just tell what they were thinking, and if she could, she might have punched the very thought out of their heads. Thankfully none were guards, else she might just actually have to do it. She still made a point to avoid the denizens as best she could, and regretted splitting up because of it. With Ezio around, it wouldn't have been such a big deal, but a woman on her own wearing armor and carrying weapons—and God forbid pants? Of course she would attract attention.
'It's going to be a pain getting used to being noticed again,' the redhead sighed as she continued along, keeping her eyes out for a thief—one who wouldn't really be dressed like it. Sort of. Still ragged clothing, but not like the normal ones. Again, she didn't know why this particular person, but she had suspicions. Possibly an enemy thief that was a spy or even a traitor. Or perhaps a potential ally. It could go either way, but that wasn't for her to decide. In a way, that felt weird to know. She and Ezio had decided so much on their own in Firenze and Toscana, but here? Here they were guests. This was Antonio's city, and to do as they pleased would be inconsiderate and possibly make them enemies. Still; the restraint felt unusual. However, so long as it did not interfere with their work, then she could live with it.
"Who is that woman?"
Catherine somehow managed to not whip her head to stare down whoever had said it. Instead, she only paused to look around at the various tables, as if meaning to buy something. She glanced at the source of the voice, and found a trio of guards. Damn. She hadn't been paying enough attention to her surroundings like an idiot. Mario would have her hide if he knew, but thank God he wasn't here. She kept moving away gradually, not trying to look suspicious, but she could see they were slowly following; whispering and muttering over what to be done with her. Who was she? Why was she here? Why dressed so strange? Had she ever been here before?
Her eyes flicked to the nearby alleyway. She could lose them their easily enough, so she started for it.
"Hey! You!"
She mentally groaned; knowing full well who they were shouting at. Great. Just great. Was it going to potentially turn into a proper chase now? Just what she needed. She mentally prepared herself as she made for the tight corner, waiting for them to start shouting more angrily. However, that was put on hold as a pair of decidedly feminine and gentle hands wound their way around her arms, and she found herself with a pair of courtesans at her side.
"Come; we'll distract them," they spoke softly, though never missed a beat as they lead her down the road. Catherine was able to look back briefly at one point, and three other young ladies were, indeed, distracting the group. They had certainly forgotten all about her, and their little trio safely made it out of sight where the women finally broke free, smiling rather pleased with themselves—as they should be.
"Thank-you. You saved me a rather annoying time," Catherine chuckled, smiling right back.
One of them laughed, "It was our pleasure after you helped one of our own, although we almost didn't recognize you in your new get up."
"Yeah, I guess I do look pretty different in all this," she snickered. "Thank-you, again. I really do appreciate it... and now I need to get back to finding this guy..."
"Who are you after? We may know them—especially if it's a man," the second girl giggled playfully.
"Um... well, I was told he wears ragged clothes, but somewhat nice, and he's supposed to be in this area here," Catherine explained, pointing to the general location on her map. "Looks like a thief or what not. Dark hair—brown eyes. Scar over the bridge of the nose?"
"Hmm... that does sound familiar. We have some girls in that part, and I've worked there before... so the person is probably more likely around here," the first replied, gesturing to a spot just a little to the left on the parchment.
"Okay, good—thanks! That should help a lot," the redhead nodded as she returned the map to her vest.
The second girl nodded back, "No problem, and if the guards bother you again... just give us a wave. We'll be more than happy to help again. And if you're ever tired or just need some... relaxation... our doors are always open."
Catherine had to pause for a second, registering the tone. She looked to the young woman, who gave a playful wink before giggling once more and heading off. Her companion just laughed lightly, bidding a cheerful "farewell", and then she was gone, too; leaving the redhead still somewhat puzzled. Had she meant what she thought she meant? Had the girls offered to "service" her like they did the men? She supposed that wasn't unheard of, but it was certainly the first time for her. So she stood still a bit longer, blinking, and then shook her head with a short laugh. Venezia was certainly proving an interesting place.
'Right, time to find the guy,' she mused as she did a quick glance around for danger, and then headed off once more.
She heeded the courtesans' advice and found the area soon enough. She asked the small group there, but they hadn't seen the target. However, it only took waiting around for about ten minutes before the man came into view. It was him for sure, and she made sure to follow him back to a building just around the corner. With a quick mark on her map, she was done, and breathed a sigh of relief. She'd spent most the day working on this, but now she could finally get back. She imagined Ezio was already done—he had his Vision to help him see, after all—so she made a straight beeline for the Thieves' headquarters. It wasn't far by any means, so she began to recognize things and some faces in a matter of minutes. Her house wouldn't be far from the "entrance", and she considered getting something to eat real quick.
That is, until a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her stomach and pulled her tight to a chest. She was even lifted off the ground as she yelped in surprised and flailed awkwardly. A familiar laugh reached her ears and she looked over her shoulder into the mischievously grinning mug of one Ezio Auditore. His eyes twinkled with playfulness, which kept her from being able to hold up her pout. No, she laughed as she shook her head at him.
"Alright, alright, you got me. You can put me down now," she mused, folding her arms over her chest.
He brought his head beside hers, lips brushing her ear, "Oh, but why would I do that? I have you right where I want you."
"I'll go dead weight on you."
"You know I can just swing you over my shoulder and carry you," he snickered.
"And you know I'll make that difficu—and you're walking with me like this. Oh my God, you're walking with me like this," she laughed as the young man did, in fact, begin to move with her hoisted up in his arms.
"You love it."
She smirked, "Never."
"So stubborn!" he barked with laughter back before suddenly setting her down, though he played one final trick by brushing his chin against her neck. The stubble tickled her a little, but the feel of his breath on her skin made her shiver. She knew he'd felt it in the way he chuckled and his smirk widened when she looked at him. She flushed slightly, but this time held onto her pout.
"You love it," she quipped.
"I do."
She had expected something a bit wittier, and so had her rejoinder ready, but the two words stalled her. She looked to him, confused; his smirk had softened to a tender smile and the mischievous look in his eye held something else. She hoped for a certain one, but she kept herself from latching onto it. Oh, she was going to try for it as soon as she could—now perhaps? No, not yet, but tonight. Later tonight. Until then, though, she had to temper herself, but dammit he made it hard.
"A-anyways... did you find your targets?" she asked finally, looking away in a poor and failed attempt to hide her reddened cheeks.
He pulled out his own map, "Yes. All located and accounted for. Antonio will be pleased."
"Good. I think that's all he wants for us today... so we can do what we like after," she hummed as they approached where the Thief leader resided.
"Sounds like a plan," Ezio chuckled, reaching up and knocking on the door. To their surprise, no answer came. The young man frowned and made to knock again.
"Sorry, but Antonio left—just for a little while," a voice called, and the two looked to find the lady thief they had met days before standing not far off. Rosa, Catherine recalled, and it seemed she was finally out and about. She did have a crutch, though, and her leg was bandaged over her clothes. She moved with a slight wince, too, but she looked to be doing alright.
"Hello, Rosa. You seem to be healing well," Ezio began as they came to meet her.
The woman smiled, "Indeed. How are you both finding Venezia?"
"It's not bad—very pretty," Catherine replied.
"Except for the smell—how do you all deal with it? So disgusting!" the young man snickered, waving his hand in front of his nose, earning a laugh from both ladies.
"You'll get used to it. So what did you need Antonio for?" Rosa mused, glancing to the locked door.
"Mission results," Catherine noted, holding up her own map.
The thief nodded, "Ah, I see... well, he will be back later. You can do as you like until then."
"Lunch sounds like an idea to me," the redhead mused, her stomach feeling the pangs slightly.
"Indeed it does... although... Rosa," Ezio began, catching the thief's attention as he came closer, "I was hoping you could help me with something."
The woman smiled welcomingly, her eyes roving him some as she cooed, "And that would be...?"
Catherine bit her tongue to withhold her jealousy as Ezio lifted his hand as if to caress her chin—that little flirt of his that always worked so well. She half expected him to say help with something private or what not.
"We'd like to learn the climb the way you do."
Rosa pouted as she pulled away, disappointed, "Oh... Alright. I can do that. Or, well... I can't. But Franco can. Hang on. Franco! Move your ass!"
Catherine raised a brow, surprised—and a little ashamed of herself. She was soon embarrassed when Ezio looked back at her, a knowing look on his face. Oh, he knew she had been jealous, and that little stunt of his had been on purpose. Cheeky bastard. Why did she love him again? Because she somehow both loved and hated when he teased her like this, that's why. She sighed with a shake of her head once Ezio turned back around and "Franco" appeared from around the corner. He gave Rosa a quizzical look.
She motioned to the structure next to him, "Show Ezio and Catherine how to reach the top of that scaffolding. Aright, you two come here and watch. You'll begin in a hanging position like Franco is. Then jump to the ledge above you. As you reach it, grab it with your hand and pull yourself up. You have to grab at the height of the jump and hold tight, or you'll slip—that's the trickiest part. Be sure to kick hard with your legs.... And, there. See how it works?"
"I think so," Ezio shrugged.
Catherine nodded, "Seems simple enough to do."
"Only one way to find out," Rosa grinned and motioned her head to the scaffolding. "Try for yourself."
"Ladies first," the young man chuckled, bowing to the redhead.
"Oh, yes—do show him how it's done," the thief snickered as Catherine rolled her eyes.
"He does have trouble catching on to new techniques. Always so slow," she sighed dramatically as she sauntered forward. It really did seem easy enough, and she had to wonder how she hadn't really considered it before. She'd seen it done now, though, so she scrambled to the first spot. She eyed the post above—too far for an arm reach—but with a quick coil of her legs she leaped up, reached, grasped the wooden ledge, and kept hold. Easy enough. She repeated the process for the next, and then hauled herself up. A grin was plastered on her face as she stood tall, hands on her hips.
"Well done! Now let's see if he can do even half as good!" Rosa laughed, which Catherine couldn't help but mimic.
"Hey!" Ezio huffed.
"Oh, don't pout! Just come on!" the redhead snickered, and her grin remained as the young man followed in her footsteps. Like her, it only took a few seconds to reach the top, and then he was standing right beside her, hands on his hips, too.
"So, how did I do, master?"
She hummed, looking him up and down, "Not bad, I guess."
"I've seen better!" Rosa shouted from below.
Ezio grasped at his chest, as if in agony, "You wound me with your cruel, cruel words!"
"Alright, show off. Catherine, how do you stand him?"
"I don't!" she laughed right back.
"Perhaps we should test him? Make him prove his mettle?" the thief smirked, brow raised.
Catherine looked to Ezio, rubbing her chin thoughtfully, "That... sounds like a fantastic idea."
"Ha! I'm all ears," the young man grinned, up for the challenge.
"Meet me in front of the Frari!" Rosa exclaimed, and did not waste a moment as she hobbled off.
"Well, let's not keep her waiting," the redhead chuckled, motioning to the ground. Ezio slipped down first, and she followed after. To her surprise, just as she reached the lower bars and meant to drop down he grasped her waist gently and set her down instead. His hands lingered a little longer than they should have, and, her mood still playful, she turned and waggled a finger at him. "Now, now—don't you go trying to use your charms on me, good sir."
He smiled playfully before suddenly reached up to stroke her cheek. Both his smile and eyes softened, making her heart flutter and cheeks flush.
"But you're the only woman I want to charm," he murmured softly, and then turned away. Once again he left her baffled and confused and excited. God, how could one person make her feel this way? It wasn't fair—not at all. Dammit, now she had to say something tonight.
For now, though, the two of them headed back out into the city. Rosa took a route they didn't see, but her crutch did cause her to take longer than they did to reach the tall, red-bricked building she had mentioned. Regardless, they all made it, and they were ready for whatever challenge she had in mind. She turned her attention to Ezio first.
"Alright, showoff. Climbing a bit of scaffolding is all well and good, but let's see how you do in the open. You have five minutes to get to the top of the tower and come back here. Catherine, I'll have you help me keep time," the thief smiled, beckoning the redhead over. She complied and leaned against the canal's wall, grinning at Ezio, whom frowned.
"Why doesn't she have to take the 'test'?"
"Because I'm not the one who thinks their cock is too big for their pants," the redhead cooed right back.
Ezio huffed, but turned away, grumbling under his breath about going to the top of the tower. He went on, though, and Catherine couldn't help laughing. However, he paused after a few steps, and turned back to them.
"If I manage it, I demand a prize in return!"
"Like what?" the redhead snorted with a smirk.
"Any request."
"Any reasonable request—and don't give me that look. I know you."
He smirked with a wink, "That will do. See you in three minutes."
"That goofball," Catherine half-sighed, half-laughed as she shook her head, but smiled in the end as she watched him go.
"Are you two... together?"
Catherine's face turned as red as a tomato as her head turned sharply to Rosa, "I—what—no—we... uh, that is... we, uh... No. No we're, uh... not. Together, I mean. Not together."
"I see... but you're in love with him," the thief went on, eyes lit with understanding. The redhead opened her mouth, but closed it in the end. There was no need to deny it—especially if it was so obvious. But if it was to Rosa, then why didn't Ezio act on it? She groaned as the thief chuckled. "Your secret is safe with me, and I suppose I'll have to leave him alone then. You did help save my life after all, so it's the least I can do."
"Who are you going to use your 'cruel, cruel words' on then?" the redhead inquired, and couldn't help feeling a touch of relief at the thief's promise. Rosa was a beautiful woman, actually, despite her rugged appearance. She had a coy smile, too, and a sultry look that no doubt caused many men to pause. Catherine wouldn't have been surprised if she charmed her way into Ezio's bed, if he didn't do so first.
"Hmm... I can always bother Ugo, I suppose," the woman snickered. She paused briefly before looking to the redhead again. "Just be warned; others do not owe you this favor. You should take him while you can."
"I... I know," the redhead mumbled, arms tightening around herself some.
Rosa watched her for a moment before humming, "You have doubts."
"They're stupid... and I'm getting over them. I know I have to do something soon, though."
"Good! Otherwise, I may just have to take back my promise," the thief purred, and then laughed when Catherine looked at her sharply. "I jest! I jest!"
"Better thief than jester," Catherine mused, earning an almost wicked grin from the woman. The redhead smiled a moment later before gesturing to Rosa's leg. "How are you really, by the way? I mean, you got shot in the leg and then you fell on it and ran for so long on it..."
"I'm fine—truly. The wound wasn't all that serious, and I'll only be on this damned thing for a few more days. I'll be running around soon enough."
"That's good. It'd be nice having another woman climbing walls and running across rooftops. I'm beginning to feel like an anomaly."
"Ha! You call that climbing and running? Just wait until I am back on my feet—I'll show you how it's really done," Rosa replied, eyes bright with challenge.
Catherine smirked right back, "You're on."
A loud thud came not moments later, and from a nearby haystack a familiar Assassin cloaked in white popped free.
"...Well shit. That was definitely less than five minutes. I owe him a request," the redhead mused as Ezio approached them, looking quite smug.
"Well, well, seems you've done it. Excellent work," Rosa chuckled, glancing to the redhead briefly. "Looks like you've learned all I have to teach, though. I'll let Antonio know about your progress when I get back. With any luck, he's already returned."
"Don't need an escort back?" Catherine asked, but the thief shook her head.
"I'll be fine. Go on," the woman chuckled back.
"We'll see you later then," Ezio grinned, and then tugged the redhead to follow him back. She heeded his urging, although was a little surprised he was so eager to go. She managed to give Rosa a farewell wave before she kept pace. She noted the young man had his brow raised, so she gave him the moment of pause he wanted before he asked whatever it was going on in his mind. "You two are rather cheerful with one another already...?"
She laughed, "We just have some things in common now."
"Like what?"
"Like knowing you're cocky."
He snickered for a moment before suddenly snapping his fingers, "Ah! I almost forgot. You owe me a request!"
"Huh? Oh! Oh god dammit, I do," the redhead sighed, shoulders slumping.
"Now, now, don't bemoan it when you don't even know what it is."
"Okay, fine—what is it then?"
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Hmm... actually... I'm going to save it."
"...Save it?"
"Yes. I'll let you know once I decide what I want," he winked at her, earning an odd look, but ultimately she shrugged.
"Alright. If that's what you want."
And apparently he did; Ezio made no mentions of the favor the entire way back and even as they had lunch. Of course, that made her suspicious, but there was nothing she could do but wait for him to make his move. Oh, she didn't doubt it would be something cheeky, but how much so would remain to be seen.
Turned out it would have to wait quite a while, too; not long after they'd finished eating lunch Antonio returned and they gave their results. He had yet another task for them, too. More scouting and such. It was easy, almost tedious work, but it was what needed to be done, apparently. They were willing, though—especially when they recalled they were given refuge, supplies, and help for free. So they went about it, and Catherine's only real complaint was that she would have preferred using the time to get her courage together to tell Ezio how she felt, but work came first, even if it left her exhausted at the end of the day. Her companion, too, was tired, and so they did little more than eat and head to bed once things were done. It was a disappointment for Catherine, but she went to sleep knowing she would have a chance the next day. After all, Antonio couldn't have that much for them to do or keep them busy for days.
-O-
March 15, 1481
Venice, Italy
As it turned out, Antonio did have enough for them to do—for three days.
It was essentially just small things; recon; search and find; thefts; letter delivery; beat ups, and so on. Nothing they couldn't manage on their own, and often they split up to do it. Their work eventually took them out of the small district the thieves were held up in. Of course, that meant they spent a great deal of time learning the area and learning yet more alleyways, but they would have to learn eventually. Guards were more of an issue in the other districts, but word had spread through the courtesans, providing them with a form of safety, and the thieves were everywhere, too. Still, work was harder, and left both of them tired at the end of the day. In fact, Catherine didn't recall them doing much together beyond eating a meal made by Fontina or Leonardo when they'd visited him, and then they slept because they were so tired—yet again.
It made trying to tell someone your feelings rather difficult.
Catherine hoped it would be different today. Namely, because it was only midday and Antonio assured them this was the last mission he had for them for the next few days. It was a little tricky, though. For one, this was a mission involving traitors; men Antonio had once trusted but had been turned over to the Templar's side. Emilio had somehow gotten to them, either by bribery, blackmail, or whatever else might sway a man. Now their lives had to be taken to protect the Thieves and land a blow to the Templar bastards. In total there were three: one in the harbor nearby the headquarters, another on a south-eastern rooftop in the district, and one in the streets to the northeast. It was decided the two of them would split up, one target going to each, and the third to whomever got him first. Ezio called the one at the harbor, and she chose the rooftop, leaving the man in the streets up for grabs.
She didn't know about Ezio's target, but her first one had been rather easy. Racing across the roofs brought her upon him quickly enough, and then it was a waiting game for him to come closer. At one point, she had thought she'd been seen, but then he had turned around and, with no one else around to warn him, she unsheathed her blade and shoved it into the back of his neck. He died silently and quickly, ending his threat. She gave him his rights despite being a traitor, and then she headed towards the northeast. She occasionally kept an eye out for Ezio on the way, but ultimately she didn't see him as she made her way to the ground and weaved through the crowd. She imagined the target would be dressed like a thief, but acting different—not unlike the first, whom had been stalking the roofs in ways the others didn't.
It took a few minutes, but she found a thief walking alone. She narrowed her eyes, not certain, but had a good hunch. She kept hot on his heels, though made sure to keep a safe distance just in case. She couldn't afford to cause him to panic if he was the target—God, she wished she had the Vision—and then there were guards not far off. If she attacked, she would definitely catch their attention.
'Oh no—don't tell me he's... shit! He is,' Catherine silently snarled as the man made his way into a covered plaza area overlooking a waterway—right where the guards were. She even saw him talk to one, nodding and speaking plainly. He was the traitor alright, and now he had protection. Shit. She couldn't handle that many guards easily—a brute, two spears, and two normal blades. If she could get the surprise and do guerilla tactics, she could take them on, but the target might run and she'd risk losing him. She could try sneaking a kill on the target only and run, but the guards made too many eyes on her, and the crowd in the plaza wasn't very thick.
It didn't look good. Worse still, Ezio was nowhere to be seen. She was on her own, and she didn't know if the target would ever make himself vulnerable again. She was going to have to find a way to get to him. Somehow.
Sighing, she ventured over to a bench and watched from underneath her hood. She supposed there was some silver lining: the guards were moving in a predictable pattern. The thief? Not as predictable, but he was admiring the canal quite a bite—almost like he was waiting for someone. If that was the case, then she had even less time and needed to act soon. Damn. Why couldn't Ezio show up when she needed him to?
'I can't afford to wait... alright, you can do this. You've trained for it,' Catherine mused, clenching her fingers as she prepared herself. Breathing in and out slowly, she pushed off the bench. Timing it, she moved through the crowd as the guards turned away. The man was right there—his back to her; watching the water. He was vulnerable, and she was just a few feet away. She extended the blade and made to shove it right into his back.
He turned at the last second, and it was all he needed to shift and snatch her arm so it only grazed his side. He quickly threw her backwards.
"Assassin! Guards! Help!" he screamed, and Catherine cursed as she rolled up. Her head shot to the incoming torrent of sharp metal. She drew her weapon as she shot up, kept her hidden blade extended, and turned her back to the nearby wall. At the very least it would keep them all in front of her, and she hoped their taunting and jeering faces meant they would completely underestimate her. Unfortunately, it seemed the thief had grown balls, too, and joined the guards with his dagger brandished.
Things did not look good.
"Kill her! She's one of them!" the thief spat, and the nearest guard—a sword wielder—charged.
She ducked, spinning under, and slashed his side. He yelped in pain, and she meant to finish him off, but the thief lunged at her. Panic flooded through her, not having much time to move, but then her pocket grew warm. The world slowed, but only enough to give her timed to leap back out of the way. She was given no reprieve—the nearby brute swung his axe. It was coming too fast to dodge by normal means, and so she called out the Clock. To her surprise, the heat in her pocket flared almost painfully and the world changed to strings of light. Once it would have left her baffled, but now she knew to move out of the way of the lights of the axe and move to the thief. She cut clean through those at his throat, and then turned to the guards. She sliced the sword man, then the two spears, and then a brute. She made for the second swordsman, but she had barely gotten her blade through one string when a sharp pain shot through her skull. It was as if a heavy weight had been placed onto her skull, and her vision blurred. She cursed as she stumbled, the heat in her pocket fading, and the lights faded as the world returned to normal.
Golden glows were replaced with a fountain of red as the guard's throats split open and they fell. She went to a knee, touching at her head, and then her nose were blood had dribbled onto along with other parts of her attire. She groaned as she tried to shake away the agony and her slightly blurred vision, but it was hard and her limbs ached some now.
"What in God's name—demon! She is a demon!" a voice howled in sheer terror, and when she lifted her head she found a behemoth of a man with his axe raised and eyes wide beneath a helmet. She made a shaky curse as she struggled to stand, lifting her blade to defend herself. It was a fruitless venture as the man swung, knocking away her sword and hitting her gauntlet. Only the armor plates saved her from having her flesh cut, but the force sent shocks of pain through her forearm as she was thrown back. She yelped as a metal heel rammed into her stomach, forcing her to the ground, and then it was on her chest; pinning her there. The weight made it hard to breathe, and she could not find a spot to shove her hidden blade into as she tried, in vain, to get him off.
The main raised his axe, "Die, She-devil—!"
"No!"
There was a flash of white, and then the pressure was suddenly gone. Catherine sucked in air greedily. She rolled to her elbows, and, despite her still somewhat blurry vision, saw Ezio had barreled into the brute and was now facing him; blade drawn and parrying against the axe. She couldn't begin to explain the relief she felt at the sight of the young man, but she wasn't given long to feel it. The last swordsman was still there, and he had finally lost his shock at everything. In fact, he was quite determined to get vengeance it seemed, and he came for her. She cursed as she scrambled for her sword, and gathered it in her hands just in time to block the incoming blade from her knees. She was weak, though; shaky. She wouldn't be able to hold him off much longer, so she made a desperate move. She let herself fall to her back, but only so she could ram her heel between his legs—albeit narrowly avoiding having her shoulder cut. The man groaned in pure agony, and then he was choking on his blood as the redhead shoved her hidden blade into his throat.
Catherine panted heavily as she finally got to her feet. Her vision was better, and she could see Ezio leap upon the brute and end him. However, there would be no rest; more guards came racing through the streets. Yet more swords and more spears. An agile was among them, and he came for her. She was still dizzy, which made her less of a match than she should have been. She damned the lithe man's reflexes—he was dodging her blows and getting in his own; slicing through her shirt here and there or scratching her cheek—and she felt exhausted. Her limbs were heavy and her head was even worse, and the damned Clock wouldn't answer her anymore. She cursed as the scout kept forcing her back, parrying her blade. She was losing her focus and her vision blurred again as he knocked her arms up. She was open for attack and he knew it. She knew she wouldn't be able to dodge in time, too.
Again, a blur of white was her savior. She was pushed aside, hitting the near wall. A pained grunt reached her ears, and she gasped as she saw a short dagger splatter blood on the ground. It hadn't been stuck into his gut, but it had sliced through the edge. Ezio only grimaced—teeth grit tight—and grabbed the scout's arm. His hidden blade went into the man's middle before retracting and then the young man kicked the soldier away. If he was in pain, Ezio ignored it as he moved to Catherine's side in a second, gathered her up, and threw a smoke bomb with the other hand. Any remaining guards were consumed by the smoke while they ran. He held her hand tight, and she gripped his hard right back as she worked hard to keep up. Things were still difficult, but she was getting better. By the time they had rounded a few corners and Ezio had thrown them both into a pile of hay, she was finally starting to catch her breath.
She kept her eyes closed, though, as the young man held her close, and used the heart-pounding minutes to let both the danger pass and to calm herself down. Her head still ached, but not as badly, and when she opened her eyes see the details in his vest. She sighed with relief and let her head fall against his chest. She felt him squeeze his arms around her a little tighter and kept them there for about a minute more.
"Alright, we should be safe now," Ezio spoke softly, and they slipped out of the hay. Brushing off the straws, she noted her clothes were stained all over, as were her companions—especially his side. Before she could get to it, though, he was suddenly examining her; he touched at her arm and sides where she'd been cut and then cupped her face gently. "Your nose is bleeding..."
"Don't worry—I'm okay. But, Ezio—your wound, Jesus," she rasped, pulling from his touch only so she could touch at his. He winced with an instinctive hiss, but still waved her off.
"It's minor—promise."
"No it's not. You're really bleeding and I saw it hurt... you're going to need a doctor—stitches for sure... shit... I'm so sorry, Ezio. This is my fault—if you hadn't had to save me back there..." she sighed, letting her head fall against his chest as she closed her eyes shamefully.
He stroked her head gently, "Only at the end—you were doing fine before then. You killed most of them before I even came."
'If only you knew how,' she murmured silently before she looked to his wound and then up at him, "Still.... Anyways, let's go. We need a doctor or whoever helped Rosa."
"We do need to head back now everyone's been dealt with. Come on," Ezio nodded, and they went at a light run.
Catherine worried over the wound the whole way; it refused to stop bleeding, and the effort made by running only worsened it. The young man stayed strong, though, and she hated herself all the more for having put him in that situation. She blamed her own weakness, even if the odds had been terrible. She knew part of it had been the Clock, too; she couldn't deny using it had caused her to have the headache. The thought was unnerving and a cause for concern, but she would have to deal with it later. For now, she kept her attention on Ezio and getting him help.
Thankfully, Antonio had a person to send them to—Bianca. It was the same woman who had helped Rosa, and she was more than willing to give the same aid to Ezio. She had the young man remove his shirt, revealing the extent of the wound; not too deep, but enough to be a concern. As Catherine had suspected, it needed stitches, and the young man had to work hard not to grimace the entire time. The redhead stayed with him, though, letting him hold her hand in a vice as the older woman did her work. He was given alcohol as well, to try and numb things, but it was evident it didn't help much. Antonio remained with them as well, and while he was concerned for the young man, he was happy to hear they had been successful. He urged them to rest as long as they needed, and that he would not need them for some time. Of course, even if he had, Bianca assured them they would not be doing anything of the sort until Ezio could at least not wince when he moved.
It took perhaps an hour, but they were finally able to return to their home. A hot meal was promised, but for now Ezio took up sitting on one of the couches, head leaning back against the top. Pain flickered into his visage every so often, the wound aching. It had been red long after the final stich had been made, and Catherine could tell blood was still occasionally seeping through—his new undershirt was earning a few new stains as time passed. It made her feel all the more guilty. It was enough so she couldn't meet his eyes as she gathered their meal from Fontina and helped serve it. She ate slowly, going over what had all happened, and wished she could go back and change things. She couldn't, though, and Ezio had been hurt badly enough to put him out of commission for at least a day or two—maybe three. She should have been the one hurt.
"Catherine, I'm fine."
She sighed, putting her plate down, "No, you're not."
"Yes, I am. I got cut up, yes, but I've been cut up before."
"But not because I was stupid and made mistakes," she muttered, and he was the one to sigh this time. He set his plate down, too, and moved over to her side. He lifted his shirt, exposing the wound. The skin was still bright red, and there were scabs where the blood had clotted finally.
"Look. It's alright. The stiches are fine. It stings, yes, but I'm alright. It wasn't your fault, either. You were facing a difficult fight, and we all make mistakes. We look out for each other, though—you told me that, remember? You would have done the same if you were in my place," Ezio told her, lifting her chin with her other hand so she would meet his eyes.
"Still..."
He rolled his eyes with a chuckle, "Catherine... you worry too much... but if you feel you must 'make up' for it... Fontina mentioned I have to be careful and care for the wound... but perhaps you would do a better job of it, no? You said Annetta had been teaching you, yes?"
"I—oh, uh... yes, she did," the redhead replied.
"Good. Then tend to me. Be my 'doctor'," the young man smirked, waggling his brow playfully.
"'Doctor', huh?" she mused, smiling a little herself. He was really good at cheering her up somehow—probably some wicked, dark magic— although she did feel guilty still. "Well, I guess I can do that. It could use some cleaning up, actually, along with your other injuries."
"Do as you must, 'Doctor'," he chuckled as she got up to get a towel and bowl of water.
"If I must... go ahead and remove your shirt—and don't even say anything or make a look. I need to clean all the other cuts and your shirt is in the way," she mused, flashing him a "don't-you-dare". He smiled innocently, but obeyed. Briefly, she regretted her decision, but then thought better of it. She actually didn't get to see him with his chest bare as often as she thought, and he was well toned—unfairly so. She would have been lying if she said she couldn't help staring, or taking her sweet time dabbing at his smaller injuries. He was definitely firm with muscles, and the thought of what such arms could do caused all sorts of other thoughts to come to mind. It made her heart race, and she grew embarrassed. She was supposed to be caring for him medically—not thinking of all the things they could be doing in a bed instead. Dammit, she was supposed to be feeling guilty, not aroused.
"I, ah... I'm going to do the one of your side, so... you know," she muttered as she reached the worse injury and hovered her hand over it.
"I trust you," he smiled, although she could tell he was working hard not to hiss as she dabbed at it lightly; cleaning up the blood. She didn't linger on it long, and so pulled back. She paused, though, noting a missed cut on his cheek.
"Hold still," she told him as she reached up, brushing at the wound gently. She admired his face as she did so—his strong jawline and the way his hair dangled over his brow in just the right way. She met his eyes, which watched her right back; made her abdomen tighten and the butterflies in her stomach flutter all the faster. His lips—God they were so close again—curved upwards in a smile that moved the tantalizing scar and the dark, scraggily hair that had grown around it. Her palm brushed against the scruff, and even that was enough to excite her even more. "You've grown a beard."
He grinned, "I haven't had much time to shave."
"I like it," she hummed.
"Then I'll have to forgo shaving," Ezio rumbled, his hand reaching up to caress the back of her own, which lingered with the cloth on his cheek. His other reached up to return the favor, making her heart beat a little faster. He could always do such things to her, and despite her guilt the three words lingered on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to say them so badly right now, but how to do it? How to tell him everything?
"That might not be a bad idea," Catherine muttered back, watching him. A part of her just wished he would make the first move—to give her the assurance she needed, but he seemed to be hesitant, too. Or was he being careful? She wasn't sure, but her excitement and hope grew as he began to shift, leaning towards her.
Only to pause as he winced, having bent his hurt side. He hissed, bringing his hand to hover over it. The motion broke whatever spell had come over them, and Catherine's cheeks flared red as her shyness returned and she focused on the work at hand instead.
"Oh, jeez—don't do that... okay, let me see... okay, it's alright... but you should probably just relax for tonight," she chuckled softly.
He smiled, but there was a touch of disappointment, "Perhaps we should—for tonight. You must be exhausted as well. You weren't without injury, either, after all. Shall I be your doctor in kind?"
"You just want to have your hands all over me," she chuckled, although noted she wouldn't mind that, actually. She kept the thought to herself, though, and picked up his plate instead. "You should eat instead—help get your strength back. Doctor's orders."
"Doctor's orders," he hummed playfully as he grabbed the dish and did as told. She, like-wise took her plate and began to eat again. All the while, though, she chastised herself for saying nothing when it counted, and tried to tell herself it was because he was hurt. It was time, though. She needed to tell him how she felt—tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow. Not tonight, though; he needed to rest. He was hurt. They both were, and she was exhausted.
'Tomorrow it is,' she told herself again, and all throughout the rest of the night as they cleaned their plates, made their way to bed, and finally settled down.
Tomorrow she would do it.
-O-
March 16, 1481
Venice, Italy
Courage was a fleeting thing, and Catherine couldn't believe how fickle it was being for her.
She woke up determined to finally tell the young man she was in love with exactly how she felt. She had been ready the whole time she waited for him in the main room, and even as he came plodding out, sluggish from the medicine. It made him very groggy and somewhat nauseous, which Bianca had mentioned would be a side effect, but it had worked; his side hurt incredibly less and looked much better already. His natural healing abilities helped, too, but he was essentially only half-awake. As such, her courage faltered, and she let him rest as he needed on the couch and eat their breakfast slowly. She kept herself busy with chores and other things, such as buying food for the evening. She figured a good, home-cooked meal would do well and all, and it gave her something to do, too.
The task helped her become a little courageous again, but she, unfortunately, faltered a second time when she came back and found him sleeping. She couldn't bring herself to wake him, even if only to eat, so again she occupied herself—this time with cleaning their clothes and trying to work stains out. She supposed she could have had Fontina do it, but she needed to keep busy and to steel herself once more. She included their weapons, and once that was done she decided to write and draw instead. They owed Claudia and everyone a letter, and drawing helped ease any nerves. It all served to help her through the day as Ezio swayed between sleeping and being awake, the medicine keeping him as such, although by the evening he began to keep awake more. He felt better, too—enough so he was cheeky and pestering her once more. She enjoyed it, of course, and it made her courage grow. She only hoped, as dinner came along, and she began to prepare things, that it would stay. There was only way to know, she supposed, and the strength was tested as Ezio returned from a walk around the area, stretching as much as he could.
"How's your side doing?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder as she cooked the meat over the fire she had going.
Ezio smiled as he leaned against the table behind her, "Good. It doesn't hurt at all, really. I should be able to move more easily by tomorrow."
"That's great! The medicine must really be working then. Oh, and dinner's almost ready," she replied, shifting the food before pulling it off and setting it aside to cool.
"Yes, it has... although I feel so... off. I don't think I've ever slept so long. What are you making, by the way? It smells good—like what Annetta makes," he inquired, peering over his shoulder like a curious pup.
"It's one of her meat dishes she taught me, and Bianca did say the medicine would knock you out. Anyways, give me a few, and I'll have it done," she chuckled back, and quickly put the meat onto a plate along with the bread and fruit she'd gotten earlier. Ezio was all too happy to scarf it down, haven't not actually eaten much thanks to his long hours of sleep. It was well done, much to Catherine's pride and self-esteem, and she took an extra boost knowing the man beside her thought the same.
"Your cooking is just as good as hers—you would make a good wife," he spoke up, grinning mischievously.
"Shame I don't have any man who would make good husbands courting me," she snickered right back.
"Perhaps you are not looking hard enough, kitty-'Cat. Perhaps they are right beside you and you don't even know it," he mused in kind. Her excitement flared again, and she lingered between thinking he was telling her without saying so or messing with her. He always made it hard to tell, but she was beginning to believe it was the former. It had to be—right?
"Maybe they should stop teasing me then, and show themselves if I'm so blind," she replied as she stood and held her hand out for his empty plate. He gave it, watching her as she took it, and made for the sink in the kitchen. She kept her back to him as she set the items into the bucket of water she'd fetched. She listened; wondering if he might speak again. He was silent, though, much to her disappointment. At least, until she heard the scuff of boots against the floor. She held her breath, however stupid that might have been, and waited with a racing heart. Would he come for her? Would he say it first? Or would he leave? Would he disappoint her? There were so many questions unanswered and so many seconds going by. Fear and hope quarreled; biting, screaming, spitting, and howling inside her; neither able to win just yet.
She almost jumped right out of her skin when a firm chest pressed ever-so-slightly against her back and a pair of arms circled her on either side, braced against the wooden counters. She felt his breath on her neck, sending chill down her spine and making her abdomen throb. It was by her ear a moment later, and she could scarcely breathe as her heart thrashed against her ribs.
"Perhaps he is just worried she is teasing as well. Even men fear such things," he murmured softly, and she had to close her eyes to compose herself. It didn't help much—oh, no, she was going crazy. Her skin tingled where his breath lingered and she gripped the plates so tight she thought they might break. She thought courage had left her, but somehow, someway, she released the wooden plates and turned to face him. His face was not even an inch from hers, and his chest even closer. His scent reached her; consumed her. It was suffocating in the best way. She couldn't get enough of it. His eyes seemed to consume her; so full of a hunger she had come to know recently. She could just feel it growing stronger and stronger. Her belly ached with a want she once didn't understand, but with each second staring into his those dark, starving pupils she learned.
She wanted him. Badly.
And he wanted her.
Was that love, though? Did he love her? That was the fear that plagued her, but that was why she had been gathering her courage. She had to ask. She would. She was so close.
"Then... perhaps they should both... take... a leap of... faith," she replied, almost at rasps as her hands found their way to him; started at his abdomen, but began to work upwards. He flexed under her touch; swelled his chest out. His arms pulled closer as his face did; lips and scruff brushing hers; igniting every fiber of her flesh. Shivers ran through her again and she closed her eyes. It only served to make her want grow, though, as images flashed across the blackness of her eyelids. Of what could come—of the things they could do. Of all the things she wanted him to do to her. God, she wanted it so badly.
"Ezio," she breathed as his lips drew closer. Her fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt in her anticipation. His body pressed closer; hands coming to her hips; chest touching hers; lips almost upon hers. She readied herself for the coming plunge, and welcomed it.
BAM. BAM.
Catherine jumped—literally. She jerked up and back, and Ezio like-wise did the same, although not nearly as exaggerated. He let out a groan as the redhead looked to the door, hands still on him, but no longer clenched.
"I, uh... we should probably..."
"Must we?" he sighed, hands squeezing her sides briefly. She flushed, realizing his meaning, but the bangs came again.
"Ezio! Catherine! Open up! It's urgent!" a voice—Ugo—called.
"Dammit... go see what he wants," the young man huffed, albeit with a half-smile. She gave him one back, and headed to the door. All the while she silently cursed the thief. He had ruined a damn perfect moment. It had better be good.
"Yes?" she inquired, not bothering to hide the annoyance.
"Antonio thinks something's wrong. We need your help. He apologized in advance, but it may be an emergency."
"It can't wait at all?"
Ugo made a face, "No. Again, he's sorry—we know you needed rest, but he wouldn't ask if it wasn't possibly a serious issue. He's promised more time off after this."
"Catherine, it's alright, go. I'll be here when you get back. We can... talk later," Ezio called out from behind. The redhead turned to him, heart fluttering again, but nodded and turned back to Ugo.
"Alright. Let me get my gear on, and I'll meet you in the courtyard."
Ugo nodded, and the redhead shut the door. She sighed as she went to her room to quickly change and make her way back out. She found Ezio finishing up the dishes, and she couldn't help smiling softly. At last, she had confirmation—or at least enough to solidify her hope. He had to feel something for her. They had almost proven it to each other both. They would do so properly—later.
Catherine touched his hand gently, "We'll see about that leap when I get back, okay?"
"I look forward to it," he replied, reaching over to grip hers. "Be safe, kitty-Cat."
"I will. You rest up. I'll see you soon."
He spared her a final smile, and then she left. This time, though, she did so with a confidence she had yearned so long for. She knew now for certain she could tell him. One last mission, and she would take that leap.
As soon as she was back, she was going to tell Ezio she loved him.
---
I wanna make you feel how I feel when I'm listening to love songs
I wanna take you to the peak of everything that you are
You're everything I need tonight
And I'm trying hard to make you want me
But I don't wanna try too hard
I was thinking you got what you came for
But you're here now
Those four walls now are the only place that I can breathe out
Those four walls now are home
Those four walls now are the only place that I can feel
Those four walls now are home
Falling at the hand of a perfect man
Falling at the hand of a perfect man