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You should have listened to him.
Really, it wasn't your fault that you worked better with negotiations and threats than using your hands or your hidden blade, but you really wanted to take a bigger part on this mission even if Ezio explicitly told you to 'stay put or I'll make you lose your ability to walk for three days straight, and I'm not talking about breaking your legs'. Ah, that old man. He was right though. Not about the part of taking your ability to walk (God forbid if you ever told anyone that you thought about Ezio giving you more than just a friendly pat on the back), but the part where he told you to stay put.
Did you listen to him?
No.
Were you willing to listen to him now?
Absolutely not, you were far more prideful and stubborn to admit that you needed help and were in a very, very dangerous situation.
It all started when you were given a simple mission; threaten (or, in your words, talk with intention) an ex-templar into giving him all of the information you needed on what exactly the templars were planning on doing in the near future. The man, despite being fairly docile in appearance or otherwise just appearing as a normal person would, was far more important than you had originally thought and of fucking course he didn't walk everywhere without someone escorting him.
That's how you ended up seated in his living room, legs crossed as you stared him down from across your seat. Both of his bodyguards stood near the door that led to the hallway—your only exit too.
Although the much older man offered you a smile and pushed a cup of tea in your direction, you did nothing more than stare at him with daggers in your eyes (since you didn't have your own daggers with you, damn those specially trained bodyguards... how did they even managed to overpower you?).
"You don't seem very friendly," Pointed out the man across from you, lifting his own cup of tea to his crinkled lips and taking a sip out of it before lowering it back down in the china plate below.
As much as you wanted to bark right back at him with a retort of your own, you really didn't want to mess up your chances of completing this mission... even with Ezio probably breathing down your neck the exact instant you went to report back to him. You really didn't understand why Ezio didn't want you to go on this mission, really, it was the simplest thing for you and probably the best thing that you could do. Even if you were highly trained in combat like your fellow assassin brothers you always had more affinity for the business side of things. Or maybe you just didn't like getting your hands messy, but at this point, you were far too deep to care about having blood in your hands.
"That's because I'm not, Mr. Matthews," You declared, taking a long look at the tea sitting in front of you before roughly deciding that you really were thirsty and this poor old man wouldn't try to poison you. The old man offered you a smile when he saw you finally accepting the warm drink. "I came here to talk, though, so you don't have to worry about me pointing a dagger on your neck." You set the cup back down on the coffee table, maintaining eye contact with the man, you feared that if you looked away he'd try to command his man to cut your head off with a hidden signal of sorts.
The old man simply sighed, resting his head on his hand, he seemed to be thinking hard about what to say from the amount of time he took to reply to you. Or maybe he just had dementia, you couldn't tell.
"Tell me, who sent you here, young lady? Or, more precisely, why are you doing their dirty work? I don't think beautiful ladies such as yourself should be doing things that men do." Now that was an outdated view on society. Was he judging you because you had boobs?!
"I'm sorry to inform you, Mr. Matthews," You quickly rose to your feet, the familiar sound of blades unsheathing right behind you didn't help in easing your sudden distaste for the man. "But I have earned my place in the brotherhood just as fair as anyone with a penis as minuscule as yours has. I will repeat once again, old man, but if you didn't hear it clear enough, I'm not here to hurt you... so don't make me angry." You leaned over the coffee table, if your stare hadn't scared him by now the way that your lips curled into an angry scowl certainly did (Ezio always told you that your angry face rattled something deep inside him and that thing wasn't anything near appreciation).
"Excuse me?! How can you talk to me like this in my own house?! Guards!"
Of course he would get angry at you calling his dick small, but some things couldn't be controlled when you lost your patience. The urge deep inside of you to throw the fat old man through a window was quickly suppressed as you remembered that now you had to deal with two armed men while you were unarmed.
The first man, the bigger one, came swinging down at you at an agonizingly slow speed, making it easy for you to dodge, though it was clear that his attacks were heavier and probably would hurt a lot more if they caught you accidentally. In his destructive path to swing at your head again, you made quick work to bend your body down, using your legs to bring him down with a grunt. You noticed the silver of your hidden blade in his wrist, cursing yourself to try and remember to pick it up after you dealt with the more skinny man who was now charging at you at a great speed, nearly taking you off guard, though you used his momentum to dive out of the way and let his sword stab in the loveseat that the old man sat in previously. Talking about the old man... where the hell was he?!
You made a quick dash to the ground, grabbing the sword from the bigger man that had slipped out of his grasp to parry with the skinny man as you tried to get up, nearly knocking the sword away once more when your grip faltered just a tad bit. You were never really great at sword fighting, something that your brothers in the brotherhood teased you about, or maybe it was the fact that you managed to make them all fall down on their assess at least once before your initiation, you just never really cared too much about swords when you preferred close combat.
Even if the man was quick on his feet, you were even quicker, it was no wonder that you spent years training your agility and speed better than your swordsmanship. Once you got up from the ground, each blow that you suffered was met with a quick clash of your swords together, you meant to tire the man out before you, and just by looking at him taking harsh gulps of air you guessed it wouldn't be much longer before you saw an opening.
It only took a simple lift of his left arm for you to instantly react and launch your attack at him, letting your sword dig deep into his side with an uncomfortable crunching sound. No matter how many people you killed or how much bloodshed that you saw, taking a life was still something you were hesitant to do, it didn't matter to you if they were a templar or just some corrupt politician—you always valued human life despite knowing how terrible humanity could be.
Were you a stubborn piece of shit that nearly broke Ezio's nose while you slept and he tried to kiss you (seriously, why was he so freaking perverted)? Yes. Absolutely.
Did you still have a conscience? Aye, that you did.
The skinny man fell to his knees with a loud noise that must have been the mixture of a groan and a scream, you really couldn't tell by now as you were in a rush to get the fuck out of that place before more guards came swarming to your place. You kneeled down by the bigger man, tugging at his wrist to get your hidden blade out of his grasp.
Wait a second.
He only fell down.
He didn't hit his head.
With widened eyes, you only realized a moment too late that the man you previously thought was unconscious on the ground had picked a dagger from his belt and in a swift motion dug it deep into your shoulder. You fought the will to scream as blood instantly started to seep from the new wound and instead tugged free your hidden blade, using your fist to knock the man unconscious.
You took a look at your shoulder, the dagger was nothing small itself, but not too big either. Though you knew better than to remove it too early otherwise you would bleed out faster than a pig being stabbed.
Quickly, you got on your feet, though the motion itself was nothing easy as the effects of blood loss quickly caught up to you, nearly making you fall down on the ground again, and you would have if you hadn't grabbed the loveseat to your right.
The most important thing now was to get the fuck out of the old man's house.
You crashed through the door to the hallway with your unharmed shoulder, hearing the distant thundering steps of guards scrambling up the stairs. Yup, you weren't getting out through the front door today.
Despite the rushed feeling of anxiety settling in and the idea that you might meet your fate just a little too soon (Christ, you were only 25!), you cleared your head just enough to stare directly at your escape route; an open window.
Now, in prospect, you were a great climber, your freerunning was even highly complimented, but when you were in a rush to get away and there was a fucking dagger lodged into your shoulder and you were quickly losing blood you didn't have much time to think straight before hauling yourself through the window at full speed and only a moment later did you realize that you forgot to actually grab a hold of something so that you could swing yourself along the house.
Though luck seemed to be at your side that day as a perfectly round and soft stack of hay was placed directly below the window (along with a horse that was eating it until you startled the shit out of it).
"Where is she?!"
"Where did she go?!"
"She escaped through the window!"
You held your breath for a second, hearing the men that were previously going to possibly kill you (or take you somewhere where they would probably interrogate you using methods that weren't so friendly) fade away as quickly as they came.
You would have stayed perfectly still if it wasn't for the dagger in your shoulder suddenly starting to hurt. A lot.
Cursing under your breath, you jumped out of the haystack, quickly making your way across the mansion without drawing any attention (which only made you question if the guards were really trained for their kind of work if they couldn't even look for you correctly) and safely reaching the streets. Your problem now was to reach your headquarters... which wasn't too far away, to be honest, but you feared that if you were being followed the templars would come knocking on your door the next day.
You jumped from roof to roof, fastening your hidden blade to your wrist with the best of your abilities. Your shoulder was stinging, you were pretty sure you had a bruise on your rib from earlier that day when you knocked yourself over a table, and if you didn't look like you hadn't slept in 24 hours before you surely did now.
Finally, the headquarters were in sight, but you weren't just going to walk through the front door. Oh, no, you were far too prideful to show up with a dagger on your shoulder and ask for help. Many told you that your ego would be the end of you, maybe they were right... or maybe they were too jealous of the fact that you didn't care even a little bit about what they thought about you.
You dropped to the ground, silently yet quickly making your way around the building, looking for the window to your room. Bingo, it was open and there were no candles on. You clumsily climbed over your window, instantly hitting the sheets below. You were probably getting them soaked in blood, but the exhaustion quickly consumed you, and if it wasn't for the fact that your consciousness was practically begging you to address your wound you would have slept right then and there.
With a sigh, you weakly lifted yourself from your bed and made your way to the dresser on the other side of the room, finding your way easily in the darkness. You grabbed a match from the top of a drawer nearby, striking it and putting it on a candle to illuminate your surroundings. Finally, you opened your dresser and after just a few seconds of rummaging through your discarded clothing, you grabbed a roll of bandages. You used your free hand to lift the candle along with you, nearly dropping everything that you were holding when you came face to face with a not-so-friendly expression that belonged to none other than Ezio.
"I-" Your words were cut off by Ezio grabbing your wrist, dragging you towards your bed, and forcing you to sit down. He said no words as he pulled the dagger from your shoulder, not even a warning or an apology when he heard your groan of pain. Without any prior notice, he used the same dagger to cut off the piece of clothing that protected your shoulder, revealing the deep bloody cut that still gushed red liquid.
Ezio grumbled something inaudible before getting up and leaving your room, only to return a moment later with a bucket of water and a piece of cloth that he dipped on the bucket. He made quick and silent work on cleaning your wound while you only watched his angry face turn into one of worry as he sighed and grabbed the bandages from your hand.
"I told you that he had bodyguards," Ezio started, wrapping your shoulder with little difficulty. "And I warned you that they were willing to kill someone if their boss told them to, yet you still didn't listen."
"I know." You admitted, turning to look away from him. The prospect of nearly getting stabbed in the chest had it not been your luck scared you now—they wouldn't know that you had died, and now that you thought about it, you made Ezio worry about you, that alone was something you didn't wish to see him suffer through; the blame that you died and he couldn't do anything to save you.
"[name]," He softly called your name, but you still didn't make eye contact with him. He called your name again, though this time gently taking your chin between his fingers and turning your head to face him. "Why did you go if you knew about the dangers?"
You swallowed your pride and your deep urge to just crack a joke as a coping mechanism right then and there, Ezio knew you better than anyone else and he wouldn't get a half-assed answer from you.
"I wanted to make you proud," You admitted, twisting yourself away from Ezio when he finished bandaging you and planting your face in your pillows, hissing slightly at the uncomfortable feeling in your shoulder.
Even if you didn't see him advancing towards you, you could feel the dip in the mattress to your right as Ezio laid beside you. You could feel the ghost of his fingertips wanting to reach out and touch you, but it was clear he still didn't know if it was proper enough to do so. The warmth he radiated was comforting and his earthy smell was overwhelming you, and as much as you really wanted to reach out to tell him that it was okay to touch you, you feared that he would take it the wrong way (like Ezio always does, that cheeky bastard).
"You already make me proud, [name]." The way he murmured those six words made you slightly lift your head from your pillows, looking over at the older man. It was no secret that you found Ezio attractive (you even admitted so when you had too much to drink, thankfully your conscience kept you from doing much more than just saying that he was hot), but the way that he smiled at you made you think that he knew exactly what sort of effect he was giving you.
"You're a really cheeky bastardo, did you know that?" You rolled your eyes, turning around to face the other direction as Ezio simply chuckled at your reaction.
"But I did nothing! You're the one taking things the wrong way, tesoro." By the tone in his voice, he clearly knew what he was doing, maybe if you weren't so weak from your blood loss you would have indulged in his flirting attempts, but all you really thought about now was your really, really soft bed below you.
You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves as Ezio called your name, making you hum in response.
"I'll let you sleep, but I'll come by in the morning to check on you again. Don't try moving too much or your wound can get worse." You felt the mattress move beneath you, and through your dizzy state, you could only turn ever so slowly to grab a hold of Ezio's fingertips, drawing his attention.
The look on your face probably gave away your intentions before you said any words, at this point you didn't know if it was because of your perfect puppy eyes or the fact that you looked like a corpse that made Ezio give you some piety and indulge into your needs without a word being said between you two. He laid back down on the bed, reaching to brush back some hair from your face with his free hand while you grasped the other weakly with your fingers. He gently squeezed your hand, moving closer to you to give you a comforting kiss on the forehead.
"Dormi bene, mia cara."
You closed your eyes and drifted to a state of deep sleep, lulled by Ezio's careful touch.