"Magnificent…." Leonardo whispered as he looked up at the stunning marble statue that loomed above him, "Truly, this is astonishing!" As soon as he had exited the carriage that had taken him and Michelangelo to Florence, said statue was the only thing that he could focus on. It commanded the attention of all who came to the Palazzo Vecchio.

Without a word, Michelangelo crossed his arms and positively beamed. Pride and satisfaction seemed to radiate from him as he stood next to the smaller artist.

"I have not had the opportunity to see it up close, but now that I have… You truly are a genius, Michelangelo," Leonardo continued, "How long did it take you to complete?"

"Two, three years?" Michelangelo shrugged, smiling once again as Leonardo's eyes grew wide. In such a short time, this man had chiseled and completed the stunning Statue of David out of an enormous slab of marble crudely started by another artist years before. Leonardo himself had been considered to carve the statue, but he had been busy helping Ezio at the time and could not have committed to such a task. Truth be told, he wasn't sure he would have been able to come close to matching the exquisiteness of Michelangelo's creation. Leonardo was a man of many talents, but sculpture was not something he partook in regularly.

As if reading his mind, Michelangelo inquired slowly, "I had heard that you were on the short list to carve this slab of stone."

"Oh, yes," Leonardo tapped the tips of his fingers together, "but it ended up in more capable hands."

"As you say," Michelangelo stated matter-of-factly and puffed his chest, "Come, let us get acquainted with our workspace," The pair of artists walked into the Palazzo Vecchio, and Leonardo was soon facing the vast expanse of wall in which he was to paint a battle scene. He placed his delicate hands on the smooth surface, as flashes of possibilities filled him with excitement. He turned to Michelangelo, who was quietly studying the opposite wall, equally blank. The larger man turned to Leonardo, his arms crossed and his dark eyes sparking with intensity.

"So do you have a plan laid out for your fresco?"

"I- no, not quite," Leonardo admitted, his lips pressed into a thin line as he watched Michelangelo cock an eyebrow in response.

"No? A pity… I'm shocked, actually," Michelangelo quipped, "You expect to out-perform me without even the barest of plans in place?"

"Out-perform?" Leonardo fidgeted with his beret, "What are you talking about?"

Suddenly the interior of the Palazzo seemed to grow cold. What little amiability that Michelangelo possessed was gone in an instant.

"Are you unaware that this is a competition between us, little man?"

Leonardo's brow furrowed at the smugness in Michelangelo's tone.

"I'm going to show all of Italia who among her is her greatest talent. I've seen your work, and while impressive enough, you cannot match my genius," the larger man continued, "Your depictions of the human form, the intricate splendor of musculature and the supple smoothness of flesh, leave much to be desired," Michelangelo punctuated his critique with a smirk, "Painting a battle scene requires mastery in the portrayal of the dynamic anatomy of fighting men. Are you sure you are up to the challenge? Think of how many eyes will be viewing your fresco. How dreadfully embarrassing it would be to fail so publicly…"

Leonardo tried unsuccessfully to fight the color rising in his cheeks as he thought about all of the less-than-perfect paintings and drawings he kept hidden in his cellar. He found himself blurting, "Well, you can't paint a battle scene without horses, and it pains me to inform you that your apparent deficiency in the portrayal of animals- specifically horses- has been whispered among certain circles."

"What?!" Michelangelo's deep voice reverberated between the empty walls of the Palazzo, and he grew even redder than Leonardo.

"Oh yes, did you not know?" Leonardo's tone quickly became lighter and a twinkle appeared in his eyes as he managed to turn the tables on the bigger man, "I distinctly heard that they looked like 'sacks of potatoes' with four legs."

"Who said this!?" Michelangelo demanded, as Leonardo chuckled.

"Argh, never mind," Michelangelo huffed and regained his composure. He closed the distance between them and folded his hairy, muscular arms in front of his chest. Those arms nearly touched Leonardo's chin, "Oh, this is going to be fun," the burly man added with a lopsided grin.

As Leonardo looked up at Michelangelo, he surprised himself with his sudden lack of awkwardness, and at the lack of intimidation he felt in this moment. Michelangelo was quickly revealing himself to be a pompous ass, but Leonardo did not feel threatened by the larger man.

"I'm sure it will be," Leonardo agreed.

Trying his best to keep his penmanship as neat and legible as possible, Ezio hurriedly moved a quill pen across a piece of parchment, hoping to finish a letter before the dying light of the setting sun plunged into darkness the tiny upper room of the hole-in-the wall inn where he had spent the better part of the afternoon. The Borgia guards had been relentless these past few days, and he had needed a place to lay low and rest.

Since Leonardo had left for Firenze to initiate his commissioned painting, Ezio's options for a place to lay his head free from hostility had been limited. He had his hideout at Tiber island, but he couldn't realistically make it back there without keeling over from exhaustion. Feeling less tired after an afternoon nap, Ezio folded his finished letter and tucked it into the inside of his robe.

Dusk had fallen as Ezio made his way to the edge of the Campagna district. The spaces between the buildings gradually opened up, giving way to the rolling expanse of the Antico district. In the cooling stillness, the assassin wondered if Leonardo was safe. Things were becoming increasingly dangerous under Cesare's rule, and it would only be a matter of time before the artist's connection to the assassin was made known throughout Roma the way it had been in Firenze, especially after that incident with the guards the other day.

Ezio's pulse began to quicken as he recalled flashing images of a struggling Leonardo- of how closely that dagger had been to ending his life. The assassin had put Leonardo in jeopardy on several occasions, and as the guilt washed over him, he hoped that he had come up with a way to ensure the gentle inventor's safety. Time would tell.

Ezio's senses became alert to a disturbance in the air behind him. His muscles tensed without any visible change in his stride as he continued to move steadily and deliberately toward the marble ruins glowing in the emerging moonlight. Another disturbance sent tingles across his skin, this time much closer. Ezio whirled around on his heels, swinging his right elbow out as he spun. It connected with something solid directly behind him.

A slender figure landed on the dirt path with a grunt, but instantly rolled into a low crouch.

"You're playing a dangerous game, thief," Ezio growled as he took in the sight of the young man at his feet.

"Oh, I know," the young man stated in a humorous tone. He even flashed a smile, seemingly oblivious to the danger he was in, "And I almost won, too. So close."

In an instant, he was lifted and pinned against the gritty, weathered marble of a ruined archway.

"Must you be so, urgh, rough?" the thief grunted as Ezio pressed him a little more tightly against the stone, "I just wanted to have a few words with you."

"You have a funny way of initiating conversation," Ezio kept his voice low and intimidating, although he could tell by the amused look in the thief's eyes that the young man didn't appear the least bit frightened, which caught the assassin off guard. After glaring at him for a few moments, Ezio's eyes narrowed even further as recognition set in, "Wait a second, you're the little bastardo that fell in front of my horse the other day!"

The thief produced an enormous grin, "I assure you, that was a controlled fall," he quipped.

"Right," Ezio grumbled, pressing him a little tighter against the marble, "You have no idea the amount of trouble you caused."

This smug little weasel had triggered the altercation with the guards that had nearly gotten Leonardo killed. Ezio unsheathed his hidden blade and held it up in front of the thief's nose.

"I'm more valuable to you alive than dead, you know."

"Is that so?" Ezio barked, tapping the side of the blade against the thief's cheek.

"Just hear me out. Please." Again, the young man's voice was far too steady, far too conversational in tone for someone about to lose his life. Ezio let go of him and the thief slowly sank to the ground, where he remained slouched against the side of the archway, and made no effort to rise.

"Speak," Ezio stated flatly as he glared impatiently down at him.

"Grazie," The bright grin returned, "So I hear that you are… recruiting," He said the final word in a loud hissing whisper.

Unamused, Ezio folded his arms, "This is why you snuck up behind me? Instead of approaching me openly and asking? What makes you think I would even recruit the likes of you? You seem to be lacking in good judgement and self-preservation, and besides, how do you even know of this?"

"I'm one of La Volpe's men. Our eyes and ears are everywhere. And as to your first question, well… I wanted to show you my skills- to prove to you how stealthy I am."

Ezio lifted his foot and lowered his boot onto the young man's chest, applying the lightest amount of pressure, "You failed, clearly."

The assassin felt his foot bouncing slightly as the young man's chest rose and fell rapidly beneath it. He was chuckling, to Ezio's surprise.

"Not entirely," the thief responded in between his laughter and raised a hand in triumph. In it was the letter that Ezio had written and placed in the folds of his robe.

Before he could blink, the thief was once again lifted and slammed against the marble archway. Ezio's death glare was so intense that this time the young man's face blanched slightly. This thief was obviously good at hiding his fear, but he wasn't perfect at it.

Ezio snatched his letter out of the thief's hand and let him go once again. This time, the thief remained standing.

"What is your name?" Ezio growled.

"Luca," the young man responded, his voice quiet yet steady.

"Come to the isla Tibre in two days. Alone."

"Grazie, assassino. You won't-" Luca was abruptly cut off by an open-handed slap across his cheek.

"That was for my coin purse, bastardo. Now hand it over," Ezio tried to hide his smirk, but unfortunately he let it slip.

Luca laughed loudly before producing the coin purse he had swiped at the same time as the assassin's letter, "Damn," he lamented with a sheepish grin, "So close."

"You wish," Ezio turned to leave, shaking his head slightly.

"You won't regret this, assassino!" Luca called out to him excitedly as Ezio walked away

"Don't thank me yet," Ezio warned as he turned to face Luca once more, "You'll have to earn your place first."

"I will, you'll see!" Luca replied. He then departed with a triumphant bounce in his step, his chuckles fading quickly into the darkness.

It was late in the afternoon when Leonardo unlocked the door to his workshop, entered, and bolted it shut behind him. His time at the Palazzo had been an eye-opening experience, and had renewed his sense of passion and purpose. So eager was he to hurry into his cellar and begin working on sketches for his commissioned fresco that he nearly missed the small letter that had been slipped underneath his door while he was away.

L,

I hope you enjoyed your trip to Firenze.

Please meet me at Isa Tibre on Sunday afternoon.

As I have written to you previously, I have much to tell you and show you.

I have some ideas that require your counsel.

You have done so much for me, and I wish to return the favor.

I will see you soon.

E.

Leonardo held the letter close to his chest for several seconds before descending once more into his dark cellar.