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asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2011-11-16 12:25 pm
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2011-11-16 12:25 pm
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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 4
Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.4
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Part 1
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The end of the fill, or [3/3] i guess :?
(Anonymous) 2012-07-30 12:41 pm (UTC)(link)***
The dungeon at the Castello Sant-Angelo began to fill up around the five captured Assassins. Every day more of their brothers and sisters, beaten and bloodied from questioning but hard-willed as ever, were thrown into the neighbouring cells by jeering Templar soldiers. Severino struggled to piece together any scraps of information he could, but all was chaos.
Tiber Island was lost, that much was certain, along with most of central Roma. It was thought that La Volpe lived, but his Thieves had abandoned their hideout to disperse underground, their numbers unknown. Bartolomeo d'Alviano rallied his men on the outskirts of Roma, his forces pressed hard by the French. Nothing at all was known of Niccolo Machiavelli.
Cesare came for Ezio often, to shame the Master Assassin in front of his captured men and women. Sometimes Cesare and Micheletto took Ezio away from the cells for days at a time, for interrogation, presumably; Micheletto would throw the Assassin back in afterwards, dazed with pain and exhaustion. Whatever else they had done to him besides torture Severino did not want to know. Ezio never spoke of it. Nobody spoke of it.
Meanwhile Severino struggled to keep his head, cursing his own uselessness.
Marcello had started refusing their meagre rations and had had nothing to eat for days, only drinking water when Severino nearly forced it down his throat.
"Are you a fighter, Marcello?" Severino had demanded, seizing his Brother by the front of his shirt.
"Yes," Marcello said sullenly, trying to shrug him off. "I'm a fighter."
Severino hauled him upright. "Then fight." He pushed the jug of water into Marcello's face. He swallowed a few mouthfuls, only to return to his position curled lifelessly on the floor. Ciro watched in silence, his eyes dry.
Severino sat back with a sigh. The days and nights wore on in the Castello Sant-Angelo, but Severino could no longer tell which was which in the dingy cells. Marcello was growing weaker by the minute. Severino cursed himself over and over. How had they not managed to break out yet? What was wrong with them? What was wrong with him? But the cell walls were thick stone, the bars solid iron, and the guards were armed to the teeth, ordered to suppress their every move.
Once, a big bold rat snuck through the bars to sniff among the dirty straw. When it nudged Annetta's boot, she lifted her foot and slammed her heel down to break its back. The rat spasmed, then died. Severino reached to take the dead rat by its tail, intending to throw it out of the cell - but Annetta stopped him with a glare.
"Leave him. He's mine," she said, and Severino shook his head, thumping the side of his fist against the bars with a clang. What could he do? He just hoped she would get rid of it when the stench grew too much to bear. Still, it probably wouldn't smell much worse than this whole place. Severino rubbed his bruised hand and sighed. One of his comrades had given up; another had apparently gone mad. Ciro was just a boy. And Ezio... the horrifying images played out in Severino's mind even when he was gone.
After one a particularly long session of questioning that left Ezio nearly insensible, Cesare's visits stopped completely. It seemed he had left Roma. Ezio did not seem surprised. It was almost as if he had expected it - but then again, Severino had seen no reaction from the Maestro to anything at all since the raid, so that didn't mean much.
When the guards changed and the next shift began, the Templar men brought wine with them, passing the bottles around between them. Whether they were celebrating something or simply relaxing in Cesare's absence, Severino couldn't tell.
"What of your master's victories," he called to them, hoping to solicit information by tempting them to brag.
Laughter followed his question. "Cesare has captured Firenze," said one guard.
"Horse shit," Severino called back.
"And Venezia!" said another. "And your mother."
More laughter. Severino rolled his eyes. "Where is the Duca now?"
"Wouldn't you like to know, little Assassino."
The Templar guards talked and drank among themselves, growing louder all the time. Soon they began to argue - one of the more intelligent ones seemed to think it a bad idea to get roaring drunk among a whole prison full of their enemies.
"What could happen, Pietro?" "Si, Pietro. Stop complaining," his companions derided. "Shut up and get paid to drink wine. All we have to do is nothing. Even you couldn't fuck it up."
"I won't fuck it up," said Pietro, "but you might, you sot. Give me the cell keys, I don't trust you. Idiota."
"Ah, go and fuck yourself, Pietro."
So, now they knew who had the keys. For all the good it would do them. Still, Severino made careful note of the man who had told Pietro to fuck himself - a bear of a man, heavyset but flabby, with too much fat under his chin for a man his age. No Assassin would let himself get so slack, Severino thought with contempt.
"Nothing will happen tonight," said a different guard. "Now, both of you, stop arguing and have a drink."
"You never know," said the flabby guard with a shrug. "Something could happen. Perhaps the Assassino will shit out a son for Cesare."
A wave of raucous laughter broke out among the guards, and bottles clinked together, the argument forgotten. Severino stood up, ignoring his stiff joints and aching bones. His blood felt like liquid fire pulsing in his throat. He could not stand another minute of this. Their Brotherhood was a laughing stock for these stronzi. What did the citizens think? Did they hear the rumors and laugh too?
Hands shaking with his need to tear these men apart, Severino thumped on the bars of the cell. "You piece of shit," he yelled. "Unlock this door and fight me."
He was pulled abruptly down by a hard hand on his elbow. Severino fell back to the cold stone to find Ezio crouching over him.
"You are not asking for a fight," said Ezio, his voice low and calm.
"I am," Severino said, struggling to sit up.
"No." Ezio held him down firmly. "You are asking for a thrashing."
Reality began to sink in, and Severino subsided.
"Stay down and be silent," Ezio told him. "There is no sense in having more of us injured."
But Severino's belly still burned with rage. The Brotherhood was reduced to a joke, and their master had not spoken a single word to him except to silence him.
"Then what do we do, Maestro?" he demanded, fists clenched as his fingernails gouged deeper into his bloodied palms. "Since Tiber Island you've done nothing! You've given us no orders at all!"
Ezio gave him a long look from narrowed amber eyes, and Severino swallowed. Even in here, after all that had happened, that look still had the power to make him freeze inside.
"You want orders, Severino?" Ezio let him go, and leaned back against the cell wall. "Endure." His face was calm, his eyes inscrutable. "And when you have done it, endure some more. Those are my orders."
Clear enough, Severino thought bitterly, if utterly useless. The guards jeered and mocked them through the night. But Severino obeyed, and endured - there was nothing else to do.
Annetta looked up in the early hours. She whispered sharply through the guards' loud voices: "Marcello is dead."
Severino sat up in a panic - it couldn't be true! How had he let it happen? - but in the same instant he saw Marcello's chest rise and fall in a shallow breath. He gave Annetta a disgusted look.
But Ezio glanced at Annetta with a nod, and she broke into a wail. "Oh! By the Virgin - my Brother has gone to God!"
One or two Templar guards looked up, without much interest.
"Please, I beg you to come and take his body," Annetta sobbed, and was met with more laughter.
"Good try, puttana." "Think of a better ruse."
"Can you not smell the body?" Annetta cried. "May God strike you down for leaving a dead man inside a cell to rot!"
"All I can smell is Assassin scum," replied a guard, spitting half-heartedly in her direction. But Severino saw doubt in the faces of many of the Templar guards. Of course they could smell rot - Annetta's dead rat, stinking in a corner under the straw. Severino looked at her with new respect.
"I don't want to be struck down," muttered one of them, sniffing in distaste, and again the drunken guards began to argue.
"You won't be struck down. Don't be stupid."
"But - a dead man - don't you fear God?"
"Hah! I fear Cesare Borgia."
"You fear the Assassino. He's in the same cell."
"Our orders are not to open the cells for any reason."
"Cesare will be angry if he has to tell someone to deal with a dead body..."
"That smart-mouthed one is in there too. I'd like to teach him a lesson."
"And the girl, eh? What's the sense in a night of wine, without a woman?"
Severino's heart began to pound as he realised what was happening. Could they be so stupid? He looked at Ezio, and knew him well enough to sense his reaction. The master Assassin's muscles had tensed almost imperceptibly, and there was a sense of readiness about his eagle's eyes. Severino nudged Ciro awake, silenced him with a gesture. Marcello played his part, lying still as death.
The flabby guard approached the cell, backed by his comrades. Although some were swaying on their feet, all were armed and ready.
"We will take care of your Brother," he said to Annetta, smiling almost kindly, "and you will spend the rest of the night with us. Sound fair?"
The guard didn't notice the soft growl from Ezio's throat, but Severino did.
"The rest of you - anyone moves, she dies."
Severino did his best to freeze as the key slid into the lock, and the heavy gate creaked open.
The flabby guard reached for Annetta's hand. She gave it to him willingly. Quick as a whip, her other hand thrust the dead rat in his face. He reeled back from the stinking thing with a shout of confusion, but now Annetta had him by the wrist, and she yanked him forward as she drove the heel of her palm to smash his nose through his skull.
Ezio shot out of the cell like a striking snake, Severino on his heels. Ezio took the nearest crossbowman before he had worked out what was happening, forcing his weapon up to fire harmlessly against the vaulted walls; a knee to his crotch doubled him over, and an elbow to the back of his neck killed him. Severino threw himself down to avoid fire, rolling between the crossbowmen and flipping to his feet behind them.
Ezio swept the dead man's dagger from his belt and threw it to Severino, who grinned. A blade had never felt so good in his hand.
Complete chaos erupted in the dungeon of the Castello Sant-Angelo. Annetta had relieved the flabby - now unconscious - guard of his key. Out of the corner of his vision Severino saw her spin to plunge it into another guard's eye. Unarmed, an Assassin made her own weapons.
Severino found himself back to back with Ezio. A blade in his hand, his Mentore at his back; even as reinforcing Templar soldiers stormed in, somehow everything felt right. The Assassins spilled out of their opened cells, killing with their hands and feet, or with weapons collected from fallen Templars. Severino's blade flew, and soon his ragged clothes were drenched with Templar blood.
All of a sudden, the noise of clashing steel subsided. The Assassins had taken the dungeon. For the first time in weeks, a rush of elation flowed through Severino. They still breathed, and they were not defeated. Everything came together in his mind - Ezio's long interrogations, Cesare's sudden absence... Ezio hadn't been doing nothing. He'd spent the past weeks carefully planting every kind of misinformation he could. Planning a raid from the inside on the Castello Sant-Angelo - on Cesare's own stronghold. Severino stared at his master, nearly mad with love and pride.
Ezio looked over his waiting men. "Form up," he said, turning away with a grim smile. He raised his fist, signalling them to battle. "It's time to take revenge."
Re: The end of the fill, or [3/3] i guess :?
(Anonymous) 2012-07-30 01:12 pm (UTC)(link)Thank you thank you thank you, anon! That was an awesome, fitting end to a wonderful fill! I love me some badass Assassins and idiotic guards. Annetta, you sly lady you. And Ezio, a master manipulator despite everything being done to him.
Once again, thank you so much!
writernon Re: The end of the fill, or [3/3] i guess :?
(Anonymous) 2012-07-30 01:20 pm (UTC)(link)Re: The end of the fill, or [3/3] i guess :?
(Anonymous) 2012-07-31 05:04 am (UTC)(link)