The Eagle and the Lion

Firenze's Flying Demon

"Ezio, the Eagle of Firenze! Lemme tell ya, Ezzy, can I call you Ezzy? Its cute on you! You were so damn beautiful flyin on my machine, it brought tears to my eyes!" At this, tears again welled in Leonardo's glazed eyes. " You were sssooo gorgeous flying above the buildings! I-I-I don't know, babey...

Attempting to drink the last of his wine, Leo passed out on Ezio's lap. Ezio, a bit stunned, sat there, absentmindedly running his fingers through his friend's now wine-stained locks. He never really understood why the architect looked up to him in such adoration, but it warmed his heart. He felt, now, that perhaps he needed a gentle intimacy in his dangerous violent life that the women he had known before never seemed to match. He wondered then, was this love?

It made sense. Ezio was on a journey towards vengeance at the loss of his father and brothers. But it was a lonely journey. His mother never left her bedside, silently praying on. His sister kept herself busy at their uncle's Villa. And he, between missions, found himself most fond of Leonardo's company as they worked on the Codex pages.

Ezio looked down at his hidden blade mechanism on his wrist. Leo worked so hard on these tools for him, even making sure the blade wouldn't require removing his finger. Would any other architect who didn't know Ezio as well made this adjustment? Surely not. And seeing the guards abusing Leonardo struck a rage in him he felt like at his father's death. He wanted the ones he loved to be safe, and nobody would ever get in his way again, he promised sure of that.

Leo's gentle snores brought him back to the present. He gently stood up, lifting the man in his arms, and carried him to the bedroom. Carefully, he tucked him in, and as he was leaving, he turned back to Leonardo.

"I'm going to protect you," Ezio whispered. "I love you. Be brave, my Lion."