Ezio Auditore Da Firenze (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
collectsfeathers) wrote2018-10-07 01:33 pm
collectsfeathers) wrote2018-10-07 01:33 pm
Entry tags:
∞ Duplicity Dom / Sub Finder + Overflow
EZIO AUDITORE
Are you alright with your partner being an assassin who randomly disappears for long spans of time to go operate in secret? Then this man is for you. 6'1, 170 pounds of pure, charming Italian fuck boy. Benefits of being his submissive include: always being protected, being well taken care of, occasionally crawling into his bed for cuddles, and him treating you like the most precious thing on earth. Downsides include: What is monagomy, is that a plant? Kind of bitter about love at the moment, has more baggage than an airport.
Basics
no subject
[There is so much to talk about in that post, and even then, Leonardo feels so uncomfortable sharing anything about himself. Ezio didn't need to know any of this. He'd always been afraid of disappointing Ezio, and this is just the icing on the cake as far as Leonardo is concerned. Instead, he tries to lighten the mood a little with a joke at his own expense.]
I suppose the nights we spent at La Rosa Colta in the company of Paola's girls make a little more sense now.
no subject
[Every word of it. As unflattering and down right cruel as most of it had been, it was all true.
And Ezio knew it. All he'd had to do was hug the man once and he had instantly become his most loyal friend and trusted confidant. Had complimented his mind and had ended up with someone who willingly stopped everything they were doing to help him at a moment's notice.
But he also knew what lie underneath was a heart of gold that had suffered far more than it ever should have.]
Do you know what it means when we say that 'nothing is true', Leonardo?
I am so sorry for this impromptu biography lesson. (1/2)
But he knows deep down Ezio would not still be here talking to him, if Ezio thought the man he'd grown to call a brother was truly any of those things. And so, despite all of his discomfort, he begins to tell him everything.]
Ser Giovanni was a good man. And he clearly loved you, and your brothers, and darling Claudia very much. And your mother... Dio, he was obsessed with her. I could see it in the way they looked at each other. There was so much love there, in the Palazzo Auditore. I did not have such affection, growing up in Vinci.
[He takes a deep breath to steady himself, and as a reflex when his chest begins to tighten from the sorrow and dread.]
I was a bastard, as you very well know. My mother was the one to raise me until my fifth birthday, and she loved me very much, but she was betrothed to one Acattabriga di Luca soon after I was born. She had already given birth to Piera by the time I was three, and Maria was born just after I left my mother's house. That is, perhaps, the closest to a family I've ever had. I do not know Messer di Luca very well, but my mother seems happy enough.
As for my father... I joined the household of my nonno e nonna, at their farm in Vinci. My father had married just after I was born, also, to my first stepmother Alberia, whom I loved a great deal. But I always felt a certain detachment from my father, who was quite busy with his notary work and never seemed to have much time for me. I spent more of my time with zio Francesco, and nonno Antonio, who sadly died when I was sixteen. My father had already apprenticed me to my dear maestro Verrocchio by then, God rest his heavenly soul, so by the time his second, third, and fourth wife were brought into the household, I had been out of his house for quite some time. I did not know my other stepmothers very well. Alberia tragically passed away, as did Francesca and Margherita, though Margherita did give my father his first legitimate son, Antonio, as well as another son and daughter. His fourth wife, Lucrezia, has also given my father two sons and a daughter.
Now I have eleven stepbrothers and stepsisters, between both of my parents. Little Domenico is only one or two years old. And here I am, at thirty-six, only writing to him when I can... how could I possibly fit into his family now, with a household and a workshop of my own?
(2/2)
I have taken it to mean... that one must question everything. That one must understand the logic behind everything instead of merely taking it for granted. Am I wrong?... Ha, I suppose that in itself is a silly question, if nothing is true.
Oh good lord in heaven I have died
There's a deep and distinct pain that slices through his chest at the sound of his father's name, at the mention of his brothers. It radiated outwards with each passing word that was spoken, until he was certain he could bear no more.
He missed Claudia, missed his mother. They were all the family that he had left, save for Leonardo.
But it fades far more quickly than it once had, an old wound that only ever opened on the rarest of occasions now.
There was so much that he had never known of the man he called his closest, oldest, dearest friend. So much he had never bothered to ask or wonder. So much pain that had been suffered through alone, in silence.
No, Ezio didn't truly believe that Leonardo was anything of those things. Perhaps he was blind, perhaps he was simply biased. But Leonardo's heart was pure and good and it had suffered far too much.
Where once it may have made him angry, now it only made him sad, and he reached out to place his hand upon Leonardo's as he spoke, a comforting presence.]
To say that nothing is true is to realize that the foundations of society are fragile. Simply because you do not conform to what the world tells you to be, does not mean you are any less worthy, my friend.
no subject
... I suppose I have never conformed to what the world tells me. Neither have many of us who know of the Assassins. If it were not for you, or your father, or your dear mother, or Paola, I would be dead many times over, or worse. I owe my life to the Auditore, and to the Assassins, and I will never be able to repay that debt. You have been far too kind and gracious and merciful towards me, a-and...
[He has to stop for a moment, because he's maybe tearing up a little. Just maybe. His hand squeezes Ezio's out of reflex until he slowly continues speaking.]
I have been lucky. I may be worthy in your eyes, perhaps, but not in theirs. I was imprisoned the April before I met you... did you know that?
no subject
And yet Leonardo was still the kindest, brightest person he had ever known. Like a ray of sunshine that had grown legs and gone walking.]
You owe us nothing. You are one of us, Leonardo. [He may never have been officially inducted, may have never had the words spoken, been given the robes and the brand, but he as much an assassin as any of the others.] Auditore's take care of one another.
[No. No he hadn't known that. But he wondered if his father had. His mother. If they had not done something to attempt to have him released. Certainly, his father should have had enough pull.]
I am sorry, fratello mio. I did not know.
I apologize once more for the biography lesson. (1/3)
[Leonardo falls silent a moment, his fingers not yet losing their grip upon Ezio's hand. The subject of his twenty-fourth birthday was painful, to say the least, and bringing it up to Ezio like this... he'd never expected to be this open about it with him, or with anyone except Paola.]
You know I am a sodomite, Ezio. So you must understand why, then, I knew Paola and La Rosa Colta so well. [He leans his head back against the wall, remembering, his eyes fluttering closed as he tries to center himself for the terrible memories that are soon to come.] Many of us would visit her to find someone, discreetly, who might satisfy our... predilections. It is through Paola that I met Jacopo Saltarelli. He was Giovanni Saltarelli's brother - long curly hair, always dressed in black, an athletic young man? Perhaps you might remember him, you were of the same age then. He always claimed to be a model for us artisans, but... well. He was not always just a model.
[Leonardo takes a small breath, anticipation making his stomach churn nervously.] There were four of us that night, in early April. Baccino, the tailor... he lived by the Or' San Michele, not far from the Loggia dei Cierchi. Then there was Bartolomeo di Pasquino, the goldsmith, with whom Jacopo was living at the time. And then there was Il Teri, Lionardo Tornabuoni himself - you would know him as the son of Piero de Medici, who is Lorenzo de Medici's cousin. And, of course, there was me... though I had not made a name for myself as Leonardo at the time, and was still simply Lionardo da Vinci. We all agreed to enjoy his company that night, and... well, I had best spare you the details there. We thought we would go our separate ways and that would be that. But then the anonymous accusation was placed in the tamburo. The Signoria were shocked, as they rightly were; to have not only the son of one of their notaries named, but one of the Medici family as well! We were all arrested on the 10th of April, and for a week we were held in the custody of the Signoria.
You must understand, Ezio... this was an important time for me. My father had just paid for a studio of my very own. I adored maestro Verrocchio, and I worked closely with him until his death, but it was time for me to start on my own as a painter, to truly make a name for myself. And here a few simple words on paper ruined it all for me. I spent my twenty-fourth birthday in the company of rats and cockroaches. I was freezing under moth-eaten blankets at night and burning in the heat of the day... and the stench... oh God in heaven, the stench!...
[As he talks, Leonardo has been instinctively curling up into a smaller and smaller ball, so that he's now got his knees tucked up directly to his chest, his free arm tightly hugging his legs. His hand squeezes Ezio's again as he places his head between his knees for a moment, trying to slow his stuttered breathing and force the tears forming in his eyes to disappear.]
(2/3)
It did not surprise me that your father appeared to testify at the trial. Paola must have said something when we were arrested, or perhaps Il Magnifico himself asked your father for such a favor... I know your father had close ties to the Medici. But we four and young Jacopo were acquitted of all charges, as your father argued no witness had ever come forward and thus the complaint was invalid. I do not remember what happened after that, but I do remember coming to my master in tears after I had been released. He comforted me, said that it was good news, but I am sure he knew what such a scandal meant for my career. I was ruined before I even began. There was a stain on my reputation, and that would go on to stain the reputations of anyone who might consort with me, including any potential patrons.
(3/3)
[Leonardo pauses to let all of his words sink in, just long enough to draw a bit of a smile to his lips as a fond memory comes to his mind.]
Now that I think about it, the day she came to collect her last set of commissions was the day I met you. You were a sprightly thing back then. You still had a reputation of mischief, you and your brother... but I could definitely see why the ladies of Firenze admired you, boyishly handsome as you were. I still remember you carrying that box of portraits all the way to your family's palazzo.
no subject
Ezio had also always been of the opinion that his father was the epitome of what it meant to be a right and just man. He had been the best man he had ever known.
Leonardo's story only further solidifies those opinions within his mind. Of course his father had done something, of course he wouldn't simply just allow someone to suffer needlessly. Of course his mother hadn't cared what anyone else had thought of her, but had done whatever she wanted, had done what she thought was right.
He missed his mother. He never, ever thought, in all the time that they had spent apart, that he would miss her this much. But he'd always been able to return and see her whenever he wished. Here, that option had been taken from him.
As Leonardo curls in upon himself he simply allows it to happen, keeps his hand there as a steadying presence, as a constant force and reminder that it was over, that it was in the past and they were in the present.]
I remember. [How could he not? It was one of the last days before everything had fallen apart. His mother had asked for his help, had walked with him through Firenze. It was the first time he had met Leonardo, the man who save his life, who would help set him down the path he had taken.
If it hadn't been for Leonardo, if he hadn't saved him that day, he would have ended up just like his father and brothers.
And dear god did the mention of his brother sting. They had been so close, and he had been without him for so long.
It had been so long.
Shifting slowly, he brought himself to sit next to Leonardo upon the bed, carefully wrapping an arm about his shoulders, drawing him in, encouraging him to rest his weight against him.]
She told me that I should be more like you. That I needed to find a hobby.
[And what do you know, he never had.]
None of that changes anything, Leonardo. You are still the best person I know.