He had to have been asleep for some time. Leonardo was gone, and the silver light from the moon drifted in through the window.
Ezio awoke with a strangled scream. He sat up roughly, and could feel his sore back muscles ache in protest. His breathing was laboured and with shaking hands, he cradled his head. He didn’t even care to look to the door that swung open.
“Maestro, what is it?” Aligiero asked worriedly, hovering his master’s side. He looked around the dark room, not seeing anything that would merit a scream like that.
“Just...” Ezio began, his voice extremely weak, “Just a nightmare... is all.”
Aligiero slowly backed up, looking out down the hall. Giovanni stood, staring at him imploringly. He honestly wasn’t surprised to see Cirino and two others peep their heads around the corner, as well.
“He’s fine – just a nightmare.”
Both men eased immediately. Cirino turned and left, and Giovanni maintained his post. Aligiero, however, quietly closed the door before walking back over to Ezio, hesitantly taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
“... Master Ezio?”
Ezio hummed in response, rubbing his pinkie fingers over his eyes tiredly.
“What... what was the, uh,” Aligiero trailed off, debating internally whether or not he was in the position to be asking about it.
“It was... it was something in the past. Something I wish would die with those who caused it,” he whispered in response. His stupid heart was also rather content thrumming away in his chest, vibrating against his stomach and neck.
Aligiero was quiet. Purely out of habit, he twiddled his thumbs in circles, staring at his toes, unsure of what to say. After a few tense moments, he turned his head, ever so slightly, “Do you want to, you know, talk about.. it?”
As soon as he finished, he wanted to recant the words right then and there. Ezio’s eyes snapped open, and locked onto him. In the dark, with only the light of the moon illuminating one half of his face, the stark golden brown that bore into him was down right eerie. They showed no emotion, however; just watched, and waited – as if sizing him up. Needless to say, if Aligiero had a tail and ears, they’d be in-between his legs and nailed to his head.
“I keep reliving their deaths,” Ezio finally sighed, dropping his gaze to the sheets below.
For another moment, it was quiet. To be honest, Aligiero had no clue who Ezio was talking about. His captor’s deaths? The Pazzi? The Barbagio? The Borgia? Who?
“My family,” Ezio said, as if reading his mind.
“But your –” Aligiero stopped flat. True, his mother and sister were safe, but what about Messer Auditore? No one ever told the recruits where Ezio’s father laid in the picture, or if he had brothers.
“Giovanni, Frederico, and little Petruccio,” the last name was choked, obviously in a half-hearte attempted to keep from crying again.
Part of Aligiero wanted to sympathize with his master, but he couldn’t. He had yet to lose someone important to him; if he wanted to, he could go see his parents that very night. At most, he had lost a little bird that wasn’t really a “pet,” but rather stuck around and let him hold it.
“I’m sorry, m–” Again, he paused. Was it right to still talk to him so formally in a situation like this? Daring the stupid, he continue, “Ser Ezio...”
For a very brief second, Ezio flashed a weak smile, before it disappeared all together. After yet another few moments of tense silence, Ezio lifted his head slightly.
Re: Recruits to the Rescue [3a/?]
Ezio awoke with a strangled scream. He sat up roughly, and could feel his sore back muscles ache in protest. His breathing was laboured and with shaking hands, he cradled his head. He didn’t even care to look to the door that swung open.
“Maestro, what is it?” Aligiero asked worriedly, hovering his master’s side. He looked around the dark room, not seeing anything that would merit a scream like that.
“Just...” Ezio began, his voice extremely weak, “Just a nightmare... is all.”
Aligiero slowly backed up, looking out down the hall. Giovanni stood, staring at him imploringly. He honestly wasn’t surprised to see Cirino and two others peep their heads around the corner, as well.
“He’s fine – just a nightmare.”
Both men eased immediately. Cirino turned and left, and Giovanni maintained his post. Aligiero, however, quietly closed the door before walking back over to Ezio, hesitantly taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
“... Master Ezio?”
Ezio hummed in response, rubbing his pinkie fingers over his eyes tiredly.
“What... what was the, uh,” Aligiero trailed off, debating internally whether or not he was in the position to be asking about it.
“It was... it was something in the past. Something I wish would die with those who caused it,” he whispered in response. His stupid heart was also rather content thrumming away in his chest, vibrating against his stomach and neck.
Aligiero was quiet. Purely out of habit, he twiddled his thumbs in circles, staring at his toes, unsure of what to say. After a few tense moments, he turned his head, ever so slightly, “Do you want to, you know, talk about.. it?”
As soon as he finished, he wanted to recant the words right then and there. Ezio’s eyes snapped open, and locked onto him. In the dark, with only the light of the moon illuminating one half of his face, the stark golden brown that bore into him was down right eerie. They showed no emotion, however; just watched, and waited – as if sizing him up. Needless to say, if Aligiero had a tail and ears, they’d be in-between his legs and nailed to his head.
“I keep reliving their deaths,” Ezio finally sighed, dropping his gaze to the sheets below.
For another moment, it was quiet. To be honest, Aligiero had no clue who Ezio was talking about. His captor’s deaths? The Pazzi? The Barbagio? The Borgia? Who?
“My family,” Ezio said, as if reading his mind.
“But your –” Aligiero stopped flat. True, his mother and sister were safe, but what about Messer Auditore? No one ever told the recruits where Ezio’s father laid in the picture, or if he had brothers.
“Giovanni, Frederico, and little Petruccio,” the last name was choked, obviously in a half-hearte attempted to keep from crying again.
Part of Aligiero wanted to sympathize with his master, but he couldn’t. He had yet to lose someone important to him; if he wanted to, he could go see his parents that very night. At most, he had lost a little bird that wasn’t really a “pet,” but rather stuck around and let him hold it.
“I’m sorry, m–” Again, he paused. Was it right to still talk to him so formally in a situation like this? Daring the stupid, he continue, “Ser Ezio...”
For a very brief second, Ezio flashed a weak smile, before it disappeared all together. After yet another few moments of tense silence, Ezio lifted his head slightly.