The Confidant

Epilogo

1499 Dicembre

Despite the fact that she was practically consumed with worry, Gemma attempted to calm her nerves with pacing back and forth in their room. He'd been gone for over two weeks, and as much as she wanted to go with him to make sure he didn't do anything stupid, she knew that it was his fight and his alone.

"Gemma." She turned to see Claudia in the doorway. "Do you mind helping with some of the flowers for the party?" Claudia was throwing a birthday party for herself – which was to be kept from Ezio as a surprise. She thought it silly, keeping such a strange thing from him, but nonetheless she agreed.

"Ah … sure." When Mario had announced that he was going to Roma to make sure all was well with Ezio, she suppressed a sigh of relief. She halfway suggested that she come, too, but Mario would not hear of it.

"You know my nipote, Gemma," he had said. "If he sees you with me in such a dangerous place, he will have at my throat!" He was right, and she knew that, so she decided upon hoping that Ezio did not run into Cesare in his missions. She never told him exactly what had happened in the dungeons of the Capella Sistina. He seemed powerful, and his commentary throughout her ordeal definitely proved to be something that haunted her day by day.

She looked up to the sky and noted it was mid-afternoon as she followed Claudia down the steps of the Auditore Villa. Effortlessly, she lifted the crates at the bottom of the steps.

"I envy your strength, Gemma," Claudia commented, "both physically and emotionally. My brother has always been the type to … shelter … those he loved. And remain distant at the same time. And to me, it seems that no matter how hard he tries, he cannot control you."

"I do not let him," she replied, shrugging. "He has a habit of being pessimistic when it comes to my safety. I am not about to let that restrict me."

Claudia laughed. "You know him well, then."

"Well enough." Gemma stopped in her tracks when she took in the sight of a woman standing at the entrance to the house. There was a very regal air about her, and she was possibly one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen. Her long, red hair was tied in a neat bun, and her bangs framed her pale face perfectly. She wore a violet dress that hugged her enviable curves very, very nicely. If she knew Ezio's reputation, then that woman was there to see him. "Who is …?"

"The Contessa of Forlí," she replied. "She arrived earlier today while you were upstairs, she has come to welcome Ezio and discuss political tactics with him, or something. She didn't specify."

Gemma's eyebrow rose. "I see." A very selfish side of her was not too happy about that. If anything, she intended to monopolize all of Ezio's free time when he did return.

"A bit threatened, are we?" Claudia nudged her side, snickering, and Gemma played along as well as she could. Ignoring the woman's presence, she set the box of flowers down near the others and began to aimlessly walk around.

She strolled through the market square, listening to the usual crying of the merchants and their talk of just how amazing their products were.

"Signora Gemma! Come, come, try my new wares – I got them from Venezia just yesterday!" Since Ezio owned the basic entirety of the town, the shopkeepers had a tendency to suck up to her to get in good favors with him. It was rather tedious to deal with. On top of that, she often got side-glares from specific women in town who pined after Ezio to no avail. To that, she did not care, however. Those women were petty, jealous and annoying, and she saw no need to feed it.

Bored, she found herself scaling the stone walls to the men who were working on the new cannons for Monteriggioni. The main technician was grumbling to himself about the incompetence of soldiers, and the two men that were with him simply watched, occasionally rolled their eyes, and remained silent.

"Well, well," the technician said upon seeing her. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

"I want to know how to fire it," she said, her voice blunter than she intended. He laughed.

"This cannon is far too complicated for women, unfortunately." She sighed with a roll of her eyes, used to words like that. "Perhaps you should go home and–! Hey!"

"Move aside." She shoved the man with an unladylike force and shifted her concentrated glare over to the two mercenaries. "Give me ammo." The technician, she knew, was much newer to the city – but the mercenaries knew her and who she was and dared not cross her.

"S – Si, Signora," one replied, awkwardly loading a round, black projectile into the cannon. It was heavy, but she managed to shift it towards a pair of two figures moving towards the city on horses. Feeling a bit mischievous, she fired it about 10 meters to the right of them, laughing as the darker clad rider visibly flinched. She didn't care to figure out who they were, for they were too far away to properly judge.

The force of the weapon made her stumble backwards a bit and the noise almost destroyed her ears, but otherwise, she put her hands on her hips with a satisfied smirk.

A mercenary she remembered to be named Luigi threw his head back in a laugh. "You discourage people from visiting our city, Signora!"

Gemma shrugged. "If they cannot handle a few measly cannon balls, then it is not worth the worry."

"In all my years, never have I seen a woman so adept with weapons." A broad, mildly flirtatious grin grew on the technician's face. "Tell me, bella, what is your name?"

One of the mercenaries awkwardly coughed, but Gemma decided to play along. No one had dared try anything with her due to the visible red ribbon that had been wrapped around her wrist, and she'd grown bored. Did no one have enough balls to defy Ezio? But then, he did not exactly know about Ezio. "Gemma. A pleasure it is to meet you."

The technician wasn't an attractive man. He was built and dressed like a mercenary with a full beard covering his jaw and pale, uneven skin. "Well, Gemma, my name is Adriano. If ever you need any private lessons on the workings of my cannons, do not hesitate to seek me out."

In your dreams. "I'll keep that in mind, Signor Adriano." With a wink, he walked away, and once he was out of earshot, she began to laugh impishly.

"That was cruel, Signora," Luigi commented, though he laughed. "The poor bastardo is going to get a very rude awakening if he tries anything with you in the presence of Signor Ezio."

Gemma shrugged. "Not a single man in the city has so much looked at me in a suspicious way. I need to feel like a woman, too, you know." Hell, if Demetrio was there, he'd be going out of his way simply for the sake of angering Ezio. She wondered where her brash old friend was at some points.

"Because every man knows just who tied that ribbon around your hand, Signora Gemma," Luigi pointed out matter-of-factly. "And as beautiful as you are, the prospect of death isn't exactly an appealing one." She couldn't help but throw her head back in a laugh at that. It was very true, to say the least.

"Well, speak of the devil," the other mercenary cried, "it is Signor Ezio!" Her heart stopped and she rushed to the edge of the walls. So the rider she shot at – it was him. He rode through the entrance to Monteriggioni, a prideful aura about him. He waved to all who called out to him, and she leapt down onto a nearby roof, following him and Mario like a shadow. That day, she felt oddly playful, and intended to give him a hard time before he could properly say his hellos.

They stopped at the bottom of the stairs to the villa and dismounted.

"This place just keeps getting better," he observed, his ego properly stroked from all who called out to him.

"Thanks to you," Mario said as they strolled forward. Gemma sat the edge of the roof, waiting to see how long it took before he sought her out.

Claudia ran up. "Brother!"

"Claudia." The two of them hugged, and she could tell just how happy he was to be home. "It is good to be home. How is mother?"

"She's fine! I heard you were returning, but I am glad to see it with my own eyes. The Contessa of Forlí is here to welcome you – I had no idea you were so famous!" Neither did I. Still, however, Gemma remained silent.

"Caterina? Here?" So her name was Caterina. Of course he spoke of her in so familiar a way. Gemma bit back the urge to roll her eyes.

His little sister then took on a very serious tone. "So … is it finished then? Is the Spaniard truly dead?" The mere mention of him made Gemma cringe.

"Gather the others in Mario's study tonight. I'll explain everything there," he said, and she wondered just about the horrors he faced in Roma. "Speaking of which … where is Gemma?"

"I …" Claudia noticed her standing on the rooftop behind him, but Gemma quickly winked and placed her finger over her mouth as a signal. "I don't know, Ezio. She walked off somewhere and I have not seen her for a good hour."

He groaned. "Of course she does not come to welcome me like a normal person."

Claudia chuckled and nodded in agreement. "You know her, she likes to spice things up."

"Unfortunately." He stretched his arms into the air. "Well, I'm going to try and find her. Expect I won't be back until nightfall." She laughed and went up the stairs. Ezio turned on his heel and she didn't move, smiling as chocolate and emerald met.

"Salve," she said quietly, knowing he could hear her. He opened his arms as a gesture to her, but she shook her head despite the need to just dash straight into him, an impish grin flashing across her face. "You're going to have to do a little work, Assassino."

He smirked. "With you? I'm not surprised." With a swift turn, she dashed away from him as fast as her dress could possibly allow her, diving straight into the small vat of hay, freezing as she heard his footsteps stop to survey the area.

"Underestimating me, are you?" he called out, and by the sound of it, he knew where she was hiding. As he jumped, she resurfaced from the straw and belted forward, weaving her way through the small groups of people.

"I've missed seeing this," a villager she didn't identify commented as she bolted past. She decided to confuse him a bit, because she knew he was right behind her. Gemma hoisted herself up onto a rooftop and ran, risking a glance backward to see that Ezio was quite literally a few paces behind her. Just as he made a grab for her waist, she kicked the lever of a lift and went flying straight up onto the walls of the city.

She could hear him curse, her grin broadening. Her eyes dashed for a specific hiding spot.

"Giving him a hard time?" Luigi asked with a hoarse laugh.

She nodded once. "Luigi, do me a favor, distract him." Unable to refuse her, the mercenary sighed in defeat as she dashed off in the opposite direction. She would have gone farther, had a rough hand not seized her and pinned her against the wall.

She certainly wasn't expecting Adriano. "You are in such a hurry, bella, why is that?"

"And is that any business of yours?" she inquired, shoving herself out of his grip. He didn't seem to take the hint, smirking and cornering her against the wall. She was many kinds of uncomfortable.

"You are unlike any woman I've ever seen," he remarked, leaning a hand against the stone wall and getting closer. He smelled terrible, and her nose scrunched up in visible distaste that he obviously chose to disregard. "I feel like we can establish quite a relationship, you and I."

She exhaled. "You may have gotten the wrong impression, but I am sorry to say I'm spoken for."

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "A mere obstacle. What man could possibly compare to me?"

"Adriano, my fiancé is–!"

"Fiancé?" he repeated with a grin. "Then you have yet to be married! That is good news!"

She stifled a laugh. This man's life would be in danger if Luigi couldn't distract Ezio long enough. "I admire your … persistence, but he isn't a normal man."

"Oh? And who is this fiancé of yours?"

Stubborn bastard, she thought. "He goes by Ezio Auditore da Firenze."

"You have to do better than that to make me go away, bella," he responded. "Auditore does not settle on one woman – he is well spoken of amongst Toscana. He may have admired you once or twice, but I highly doubt he is the type to marry."

Gemma chuckled. "Oh, I agree."

"So do not cover up with lies!" Adriano insisted. "I may be a bit forward, but it is quite hurtful when you pretend to be engaged."

"Who said she is pretending?" She suppressed a sigh of relief when his voice broke through the awkward atmosphere. Adriano turned around, leaning off with a raised eyebrow.

He scowled. "So she was telling the truth."

"She was," Ezio clarified darkly. "I suggest you step away from her."

"Damn you, Auditore," he grunted. "You could have any woman in the world – why choose this one?"

At that, the Assassin smirked. "Because this is the only woman who can handle me." The engineer swore under his breath, but didn't push the matter further, stalking off to do whatever people like him did when rejection was in the air.

She smiled coyly. "Well, thank you for rescuing me."

He shook his head. "Out of my sight for five minutes and you get yourself into trouble. What in the world am I going to do with you?"

"Mm, non so," she replied, a smirk tugging on her lips as the both of them stepped closer and closer to each other. "You really have terrible taste in women."

"I know," he agreed without a moment's argument. "I'm trapped. Ma adesso non c'é niente da fare, but I am very good at making the best out of a hopeless situation."

Her smirk grew wider. "Oh? Enlighten me, Assassino."

"Well, for starters," he murmured, carefully taking a hold of her hand and brushing his lips across the tips of her fingers, "I can marry you. In a week."

"A week?" she repeated in astonishment. Her head began to buzz. "Sei pazzo? You cannot plan a marriage in a week! And what about your–!"

"Taken care of," Ezio finished for her. "I have all the time in the world now. I am … free, Gemma. My enemies are dead. I can finally breathe and good God, how I love this feeling!"

She grinned. She'd never seen him so joyful, and the smile on his face was enough to warm her heart. "No more month-long trips."

He shook his head. "Absolutely none. Yes, I am a hunted, wanted man but dammit, they will never think to look for me here. And here is where I am going to stay."

"Don't give me false hope," she muttered. "This time tomorrow, I bet some random, brand new enemy is going to appear and the cycle will start all over again."

"Don't be so pessimistic," he replied gently, putting a hand against her cheek. "We won't be disturbed anymore, you and I. And do you know what that means?"

She leaned into his touch. "Tell me."

He swept her into his arms and spun her in the air once, a boyish grin stretching across his aged face. "Gemma Auditore. That is what is going to happen. And we can do it right and–!"

"In a week?" she brought up the previous proposal with a raised, skeptical eyebrow.

Ezio grinned like an imp. "What? I am an impatient man."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You're impossible, that's what you are. And have obviously never planned a wedding before." He shrugged, giving her a How hard could it be? look that clarified her assumption. The thought of all of this all at once made her mind boggle, but at that point, she was less scared, and more excited.

Finally. Finally.

All were waiting for Ezio in Mario's study that evening, and Gemma was leaning against the bookcase as she watched him stroll forward. It seemed that Caterina desired an alliance from him, of all things. She was still warm from Ezio's promise however, and therefore, her good mood could not be spoiled.

"Machiavelli, it is done." Ezio announced to a cloaked man with his arms behind his back. Gemma knew of him – her father often spoke of Niccolò Machiavelli, one of the greatest minds in all of Italia. To see him in person was rather surreal. "Though not, I think, as anyone expected."

Ezio began to weave a tale of his time in il Vaticano, and his fight with the Pope, and how the man used the power of the papal staff against Ezio. But, obviously, he defeated him. The Staff and the Apple seemed to be a key to a Vault. Inside it, he spoke of a moving painting of the goddess Minerva who informed him of a tragedy that would befall mankind in the future, but also gave hope of lost temples that would aid humanity and prevent such an event. Then, Ezio continued, she called out to a phantom by the name of Desmond. After the warning, apparently, she disappeared.

"Amazing," Caterina remarked, voicing Gemma's own commentary.

"I cannot imagine such wonders," Claudia added in, awed.

Machiavelli had his own musings. "The Vault did not house the terrible weapon we feared. This is good news!"

"What of this goddess, this Minerva? Did she appear human?" Claudia asked, confused. Gemma had once read stories of the twelve gods and goddesses of Olympus, Minerva being one of them. Never did she even stop to consider that they could be real.

"Yes, but her words proved otherwise. All of her kind died many years ago." There was a look in Ezio's eyes that housed the same confusion and wonder they all had. "I wish I could show you the magic she performed."

Mario strolled forward, befuddled by the recollection. "Who is Desmond, and where are these temples Minerva spoke of?"

She could tell he didn't have a single clue. "I do not know."

"Perhaps we must search for them." Gemma's eyes fell in disappointment. She knew something like that would happen, naturally, but she didn't think so soon. Her eyes unconsciously met Ezio's, however, and he gave her something of a confident look, as if to say do not worry.

"Tell me how it ended with Borgia," Machiavelli said, discarding the conversation briefly of the talk of goddesses and temples. "Did Rodrigo beg forgiveness? Make excuses? Promise power in return?"

"No. None of those things," Ezio responded.

Machiavelli's eyebrow rose in surprise. "Interesting. I'm surprised he remained so composed."

There was a long pause and Ezio stepped forward. "I let him live." What? Her eyes widened to the size of plates, her heart rate quickening in a mixture of astonishment and fury.

The philosopher whirled on his heel. "The Spaniard lives?" Ezio stared at him unflinchingly, absolute and lacking remorse in a decision that she judged to be about the stupidest thing he had ever done. "Once our enemies are dead, we can speak of vaults and gods and ancient places. You should have killed him! We're sure to suffer for it."

"I am not here to debate the past!" Ezio argued fiercely, facing them. "Together, we should discuss the future."

Machiavelli would have none of it. "No. I am leaving immediately for Roma." And with that, he stormed out of the study.

The atmosphere was tense and rather awkward until Mario spoke. "Ezio, I do not know why you spared him, but I trust your judgment. Machiavelli will come around." Ezio didn't reply, walking past them all in something of a sullen state. As he exited the room, he gave Gemma an expectant glance, and she nodded once.

As he walked off and she began to follow, a hand came down on her shoulder. She turned to see Caterina staring at her. "I can see that you are no relative of his."

"No, I am not," she replied, seeing no need to fill in the blanks.

"Such a brave one you are," she observed casually. "Do you not fear the consequences of tying yourself so tightly to him?"

"The only fear I have is for his safety," Gemma replied sharply, quite tired of the same comments over and over again. "And if you have nothing further to say, I should like to go speak with him."

Caterina laughed, releasing her. "By all means." As she walked away, she could have sworn she made out a comment. "Well, this puts a damper on my plans."

Every inch of her body itched for some reason – and she was beginning to have vivid recollections of her time in Roma. It was her only solace, those nights she'd wake up screaming, knowing that Ezio was risking his life in order to kill Rodrigo Borgia – the man that showed her what Hell looked like. The fact that he had taken that away … it infuriated her, and she thought it unfair and cruel that he lived still.

"Gemma?" Ezio called out softly, and she saw in the dim candle light that he was in the bath tub, relaxing in the warm water that his mother had prepared for him. "Come here, cara mia."

She did not reply, finding no words to voice her frustrations. He smirked, assuming that she did not come for other reasons. "You need not be shy all of a sudden, it is only–"

"Two weeks," she whispered, "I waited patiently for two weeks, and the Spaniard is not dead."

He exhaled sharply. "You must understand that I–!"

"What is there to understand?" she demanded, her voice going up an octave. "How dare you? I do not ask for many things, Ezio, but the one thing I asked for – you cannot do that much?"

"Please, Gemma, you must hear me out and listen to–!"

"NO!" Gemma practically screeched. All she could think about was the pain in that God forsaken hole, the screams that she realized were her own. "I was stuck in that goddamn place for days – they didn't give me food or water. They … for days he …" she clutched herself as she trembled, all of the welled up emotion of the ordeal coming right back. She thought she'd repressed it, but it didn't seem to be enough. Nothing ever seemed to help her forget.

At that point, Ezio had gotten out of the bath, his trousers back on. He stared at her with pained eyes, unsure of what to do to comfort her.

"Gemma …"

She fell to her knees, tears gathering in her eyes. "I can sometimes still see it," she whispered in a small voice. "I can feel the lashings … the words he said to me. Day in and day out. I wanted to die, Ezio – I had never wanted death so much–!"

"Don't talk like that!" he cried softly, joining her on the floor and throwing his arms around her. "It is over now, Gemma. It is all over and it is never happening again."

"How do you know that?" she whispered, her voice thick. "He could just as easily find me again and … and …"

"Never," Ezio vowed darkly in her ear. "Do you hear me, Gemma? Mai più!"

"There was another one with them," she said in a broken voice, her fingers closing into fists on his chest. "Cesare Borgia. He … he put his fingers …" she could not even muster the sense to finish the sentence, but by the way he stiffened, she knew that he understood. And the recollection of such a humiliating memory sent her over the edge, and sobs heaved up from her chest, clutching onto him as if he was the only thing keeping her anchored to the world.

He said nothing. Merely held her and rocked back in forth in a steady motion, a fury like never before manifesting in the pits of his heart. This Cesare Borgia dare defile her?

"Mi dispiace," he whispered, unable to think of anything else. "Cesare Borgia, you said? I'll ki–!"

"No!" She pushed into him with so much force, he ended up pinned on his back. "All I care about is that you're here, Ezio. Not somewhere else. Just here." And then she bent down and kissed him with enough desperation to render him motionless for a few moments. He responded soon enough, wrapping his arms around her.

Within a split second, she was pinned on her back. Ezio's face was unreadable, but she could tell what he wanted. "I can erase his touch, you know. Make it that such a thing is the very last thing on your mind."

Her cheeks warmed. It wasn't the first time they'd done this – that was in Paola's brothel, and it was extraordinarily fast-paced. Ezio did not have much time that day, and he was an impatient man in normal circumstances.

Suddenly, he spoke again, breaking her reverie. "Take off your dress."

Her eyes widened. "Ezio, we're on the floor."

"And?" He honestly seemed to care less, and she almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. She gave him a hard look, and he rolled his eyes. Without a word, the both of them stood to their feet, watching each other for the catalyst in their movement. After roughly three seconds, he lifted her up and slammed her down on the comforter. Expert fingers reached behind and unlaced her dress. He held her gaze the entire time, daring her to do something.

He tore the cloth off of her, tossing it effortlessly to the ground. He was actually being mindful of the fact that she'd probably want to get dressed the following morning, and she appreciated that.

"You look frightened," he commented with a playful smirk, trailing a finger down the thin chemise that was separating him from the rest of her body. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and she was sure he could hear the hammering of her heart.

She smiled tersely, nonetheless. "Not really."

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief, but was through with talking, bending down and giving her a fierce kiss on the lips as his hands began to wander, trailing up under her dress and across her soft skin. The rough pads of his hands somehow made her even more insane, and she inhaled sharply when two hands grabbed a hold of her breasts, kneading the flesh there.

She arched into his every touch, simultaneously hating and loving how he could do such things to her. Gemma was slightly embarrassed at the sounds that were involuntarily escaping her lips, but she didn't care enough to control herself.

All she cared about was this man. The one who, for over two decades, had driven her mad with love, lust, and hate. All at once.

"You're mine," he whispered harshly against her skin as he positioned himself. "No one can hurt you, no one can touch you – understand that I am willing to kill anyone who tries to take you from me, Gemma."

Despite how serious he was, she chuckled softly. "I love you, too."

He smiled, nipping at her collar bone. "Tu sei mia – per sempre."

A lilting smile stretched across her lips as the both of them were carried off into oblivion, their breath and bodies in perfect synchronization with each other.

A/N: Whew. That was a bit tedious. See, I'm … not very good at sex scenes due to the fact that I don't write them very often. Lolol. But I promise in the sequel, things'll get much steamier and I'll go into more detail than this. ;D Thank you for being patient with me, everyone! I know I'm shit at doing things on time, but I'll try to stay on track. And yes, I know it's a bit sappy, but dammit I don't do sappy very often and sometimes, life is sappy.

Italian to English:

Nipote: Nephew.

Ma adesso non c'é niente da fare: But there's nothing I can do about it now.

Sei pazzo?: Are you crazy?

Tu sei mia – per sempre: You're mine – forever.