Assassins' Creed Oneshots

|29|. R! Ezio ♡

Another request done, this one for @xx_Lady_Auditore_xx . Sorry for the delay! I might have a pause in the requests to write an Arno Oneshot about Notre Dame to tribute it. It's heartbreaking to have lost such an icon of French heritage.

Qotd: Who's your favourite Assassin/Templar?

-Kia C.

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Year by Year

1503

It was too much. Her cry echoed through the streets of Roma, shaking deep into the depths of onlookers - a trembling so deep that it touched their very souls as they stood; mesmerised.

Blood streaked across her skin as easily as sweat while steel slashed into flesh and armour, clanging loudly.

(Y/n) was a woman of thirty-six years; unmarried and a part-time worker, supporting her father. Well, to be more to the point, her dead father. He was a farmer who sold hay to the people of Roma - a kind and innocent man with no enemies who happened to 'look the wrong way' at a Borgia guard. She never knew her mother, being her first and last child - the childbirth had killed her.

Bravery, vengeance and adrenaline guided her sword, plucked from its decorative place on the wall of her father's home. It was time that someone stood up to the guards, started a riot, a revolution, a liberation of Italia's capital.

She was a sight to behold for someone with little combat experience - a natural child of Athena herself as she wielded her blade. She pierced the last guard as a sword slashed across her back from behind.

Anger caused what would have been a cry of pain to become a savage growl as she was pushed into another guard who head-butted her in the face with his helmet. Pain bloomed across her teeth and nose as she spat blood, lurching to the side and bearing her teeth. Only two left standing.

She ran one through with her sword, catching a chink in his armour. Her elbows contracted to remove the weapon, only to find it stuck. The (h/c)-haired woman turned her head over her shoulder, (e/c) orbs alight in the rush of the moment, expecting the final guard to deliver the killing blow in order to avenge his colleagues.

But the strike never came. Instead, the guard's mouth bubbled with blood before he fell in a heap to the floor, revealing a man in white robes.

The (s/t)-skinned female kicked the guard off her weapon before turning to her saviour.

"Grazie, signore." She bowed her head in thanks.

"The liberation of Roma has begun." He spoke, placing a hand on her shoulder, feeling her figure still trembling with adrenaline, "Our order could do with your skill. You are a fighter, no?"

"I am not." She spoke, straightening her back, "I am a farmer's daughter, avenging her parent's death and taking a stand against the Borgia. But I shall join you."

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1503

Five months later and (Y/n) had changed quite a bit. She kept her signature hairstyle - half of her (h/c) locks tied up into a fan bun while the rest hung loose with two shorter locks framing her face; tickling her chin. But her body was leaner, more muscular. The skin on her hands was tougher for vigorous training and she wore the robes of an Assassin - donning shades of wine red to blend into Roma's shadows.

"Come on now, I finally have the chance to train you myself and you're hardly living up to the way your mentor speaks so highly of you." The olive-skinned male teased, a smile pulling at his lips.