No rites for the spawn of whores (open)

[Catone[Inactive]]

Sound, or rather the absence of it, went unnoticed by him. All he did was pick at the food, before his own hunger betrayed him. A small rumble from his stomach, inaudible to all but him, forced him to take a few bites, automatically bringing it to his awaiting mouth without much enthusiasm. Taste was almost ignored in his thoughts, the sense being dulled by his chaotic musings.

Probably imagining it, he noticed a glimmer in her eyes. Maybe it was her way of trying to console him, the one trying to comfort. But, again, it was likely only some hopeful whim.

Action in the mostly empty cafe diverted his attention. The woman looked average enough and the glances she gave to the place was a sign of looking for something. Instinct automatically kicked in. From his seat, all he could see was the back of her. However, she was clearly holding something from the way her elbows jutted out. Most likely, it was a gift for whoever she was meeting. Catone guessed that it was probably only a date or something. Catching Rosa's eye, he only offered a curious lift of his right eyebrow before continuing to eat. "Something wrong?"

Already, he had made a small note to himself. Even if she was harmless, he would keep an eye on the strange woman until further investigation offered him some peace of mind. Something seemed off about her, he couldn't explain what.

[Rosa Giovanno]

Suddenly she lost her appetite, her stomach moving like claws against the other organs in her body. Her face went slightly white, and she set her fork down and pushed her plate to the side. Her hands ran through her hair and stayed there and her elbows found their place on the table as she stared down at it, feeling sick.

She knew that shape, a shape she had never personally known. Somehow, she knew it. She knew the way people carried such an... object. Such a gift. But maybe her suspicions were wrong, maybe it wasn't what she thought. But still it had a grave physical effect on her, and she felt cold. Rosa's eyes looked to the wine glass slowly, and then away. No, she couldn't bare to put anything in her mouth. Not even wine.

It wasn't long before a man also entered the little bistro and walked toward the woman with proud and giddy steps. She stood to greet him with a smile and a kiss, and then held out her gift for him. That was when it squirmed. Softly, it began to murmur, and then fussed and whimpered, and cried.

Rosa's blood froze, shards of icy life piercing through her body. For a moment she lost her breath, caught in a short exhale as her heart pounded against her chest. She felt so instinctive, so animal-like, so protective, and frustrated. And for what? She had nothing to protect. Nothing to guard or to care for, to nurture or to love. Nothing upon which she could bestow that instinct. She couldn't bare to look at the baby, or the mother who held it, but she did. Just a quick glance, and whether it was the image that scorched her eyes or her tears, she didn't know.

Fumbling with her coin purse, she quickly guessed at how much the meal would cost and forcefully set it on the table with a strong, hard clink. In the same motion, she stood, and left. She walked quickly, her strides long and directed, her head down as tears splashed on the cobblestone.

[Catone[Inactive]]

Catone's suspicions were suddenly dissolved. The woman's face was one of love and affection, to which her partner returned equally. A small smile alighted on the Assassin's face. Love was beautiful, wonderful, and so many other adjectives that he could spend a lifetime trying to list them. Some small spark of jealousy flashed in his mind, followed quickly by self admonition, and finally, longing.

An Assassin's future was unsure, clouded in the murky waters of death deception. Most likely, he would die on a mission. Sure, he was good, but he wasn't the best in their organization. That title belonged to some guy named Ezio, who was probably their Mentor by now. Sighing, he stifled his secret fantasy: family. A loving wife, two children(hopefully one girl and one boy), and living in a small house near Venice, outside the city walls and on the bay. It was his idea of the perfect life. Well, that and assisting the Brotherhood.

Then, a screech reached his ears and he paled. Out of all the times to be flaunting around a child, this was certainly not the best. He couldn't blame the couple, they were only trying to enjoy lunch. No, he could only curse fate. Wide eyes snapped attentively to Rosa, but she was already halfway out the door. Frantically searching his pockets, he pulled out a handful of florins and threw them onto the table, not bothering to count. He ran out the door, only slowing to offer an apologetic expression to their waitress.

For a moment, he was blinded by the quick change in light and he looked around with squinted eyes. She was gone. Desperately, he moved through the crowds, not willing to give up his futile search. It was times like this that he wished he had practiced more with that Eagle Vision a teacher had tried to pass on to him. It was a lost lesson and it was coming back to haunt him. Truthfully, he could only guess which direction she went and guess he did.

Running in the random direction, he continued his quest. Mistaking two courtesans as her from behind, he was tempted to climb the building and try looking from the higher vantage point. It would take too long he negated to himself.

Pausing a moment by a fountain, he tried to breathe and think. Where would she go? Closing his eyes to think, he heard something. A familiar sniffle under the orchestra of the bustling crowd. There she was! Running through a group of friends, he found her quickly walking.

His hand reached out and grasped her shoulder, unintentionally jerking her back. "Rosa!"

Realistically, he had no reason to further weigh her with guilt, so he wouldn't dare chastise her. What could he say, that she worried him? How would that go over? Not well, he guessed.

[Rosa Giovanno]

The world was all a blur to her; the sights, the towering buildings, the wide streets, the shops, the homes, the people, the animals, the flowers all meshed and mixed together into dull and worthless color. Fountains and laughter and talk and music and footsteps and sound all babbled and washed into a flood of insignificant and worthless noise. A minstrel trotted up to her blocked her path, and she would have punched him, had he not backed away from her watery and red-eyed glare. Why the minstrel? Why any of this? She tucked her head down and continued to charge onward, until a hand tugged at her shoulder.

Rosa spun, she wheeled, ready to strike at whatever man was audacious enough to disrupt her path. But in the last moment her hand changed its course, snatching his wrist like a viper and clenching it in her surprisingly strong grasp. But even in her rage, her agony, Rosa could tell something wasn't right. Her thumb wrapped around something hard, something metal, and she pushed his arm up. A hidden blade. Her eyes followed down that arm to a shoulder, to a neck, to a face. She dropped his wrist. "Gondoliere." she took in a breath, her eyes lowered away from him. Her feet already burned with lack of movement. "Catone. I... just..." ... can't. I'm sorry. Don't follow me. No, don't leave me. I can't do this alone. But you can't come with me. I can't go without you. I have to stop depending on you. I just... Her tears spilled slowly over her cheeks as she looked back at him, her emotions conflicting and her decisions fighting in her usually well-guarded eyes. Do what you will. She threw her hands in the air with a growl, leaving the decision up to him as she continued her speeding walk. She couldn't make anymore decisions. Not now. It seemed she always made the wrong ones, anyway. She just had to go.

First she went into the tavern she had her room at, collecting her belongings from behind the counter as the keeper have her a dirty look. She had only paid for one night, and had been an inconvenience by not returning for a second. Rosa mirrored her with a heightened ferocity, shouldered her bag, and left. There was someplace else she urgently needed to go. Someplace she desperately wanted to avoid.

[Catone[Inactive]]

Shocked at her aggressive reaction, he halted and took a step back. Barely a glimpse at her face told him what he already knew. Hurting, she was hurting so much. And then, she was gone, leaving him standing in the street and stuttering like a fool.

This time, there would be no catching up to her. By the time he went back into gear, there would be no chance of him catching up again. In reality, he had lost.

He had lost her to her grief and he doubted he would see her again.

Staring at the ground, he inspected his shoes and the way they were firmly planted against the stones. An Assassin's stance. The stance of a man standing alone.

Perhaps it was some sort of fleeting notion, but for some reason he didn't fully know himself, he started walking. Some feeling deep in his gut was telling him to do it and right now, he was too confused to do anything else. For once, he moved against the crowd rather than with it. Catone just didn't care at the moment. All he needed was a quiet place to muddle over his lost chance.

The graveyard was empty when he arrived. Sitting down by the small patch of fresh soil, he looked at it with a ferocious intensity. He was angry and he didn't know why. Maybe, he was angry at the world for its misdeeds or angry at the man who fathered a child who didn't have a chance. Some of his rage was directed at the baby, who did not have the strength to survive. But mostly, he hated himself for not comforting her the right way. He had to have been doing something wrong.

His head snapped up at the sound of approaching footsteps.

[Rosa Giovanno]

Grief swelled in her chest as her diaphragm contracted and relaxed, pulling and releasing air from her lungs only because her brain subconsciously told it to do so. If it were up to her, she didn't deserve it. The baby's cry still rang in her ears, recorded and etched into her memory. It echoed. It ached in her chest, in her arms, in her knees, in her throat, in her heart. It echoed because she was empty. Desolately empty. And filled with sorrow.

Her pace did not slow, though, instinct driving her forward. Even if it was dead, every mother always returned to her child. Even if it was hardly a child to begin with, every mother always returned. Always thought. Always remembered. Always mourned. Why? Rosa didn't know. It just was. It was a fact she abhorred, a fact she surrendered to, and a fact she heeded. She felt like a moth to a flame, so drawn to what she knew would harm her, only to fall away with burned wings.

But this... grave... this resting place, it was so quiet. It was so empty. So void of all of the commotion and clamor of the city. Even as her feet carried her over a deathly ground, six feet above the faces of others loved ones long forgotten, past crumbling stones and withered flowers to the empty space at the edge of the grounds, she felt like she belonged there. Like she had finally made a right decision, a natural decision, even if it was a difficult one. And she had no one to blame but herself for that.

Her eyes fell on the figure as she came nearer to the sapling tree. His face was already turned to her, his form and clothing already familiar. The shining weaponry that weighed on his body, already common place in her eyes. His presence finally slowed her feet, reminded her to take caution and respect on such holy ground. Holy ground denied to her illegally buried young. Rosa trod softly, and lowered herself to her knees. Her gaze fell as well, to the cold soil instead of to him. She reached down to it, her fingertips gliding over the top of it in the motherly tenderness she should have given it in life. Something inside of her bit her, scoffed at her. Tenderness in life? How about a life at all? Her tears flowed more quickly from her already wet face, and she wiped at them before they could collect at her jaw. Most of them she missed though, and they fell into the soil. "I'm sorry." she whispered aloud, though it was unclear if it was directed at Catone or the scar in the earth. But one arm reached towards him, requesting the embrace she didn't deserve.

[Catone[Inactive]]

And he was there, wrapping her in his strong arms. A nagging feeling of deja vu tugged at his attention, but he shooed it away. He uttered a soft shushing sound while his hand brushed down her back, trying to calm her somewhat.

Pausing, he tried to form some kind of words, but none came to his gaping mouth. Settling for having her head buried into his shoulder, he exhaled. "You're leaving." It wasn't a question, more like an observation. "You're going back to Roma."

Only to be expected, he supposed. Rosa could barely stand being here as he already knew. That babe in the cafe was really the final hole that sunk the boat. All he could do was offer his own ship to help sail away from the wreckage.

Most likely, she would ride on horseback. Not if he could help it. She needed time to think and console herself, and he was sure that she couldn't do that peacefully while steering a horse. That, and he didn't want her all alone, utterly defenseless in her state of being. No, she needed a carriage. He had enough money to pay for it and another for his trip to Venice, but he might need to do a few odd jobs for the Bureau to pay for his meals.

Absent-minded, he let his arms fall a little slack and guiltily enjoyed having her in his arms again.

[Rosa Giovanno]

The tension she felt from his arms only comforted her in the moment, as if he was trying to compress pieces back together that would only fall apart again. Still though, she squeezed her arms around him just as hard, trying to pull herself together. It didn't work.

She buried her face into his shoulder, listening to his gentle shushing for just a few moments when she heard him speak. Slowly nodding, she pulled herself away from him. "Yes." she said, wiping her eyes again on her sleeve. "I have to go back. I can't... stay here." She looked down at the dirt, imagining the yellow flowers buried beneath it. The thought occurred to her that Catone might try to come with her, though she had already imposed herself far enough on him. "But you have to." she told him. "You have to fulfill your contract on the man returning from Forli." And she needed time to mourn. Properly, without the shame of others watching her, even him. She had everything she needed, but she remained glued to the ground she knelt on.

Horseback would be her only option, and even though it would make the journey longer and more tiring, she liked riding. It gave a person time to think, time to remember and to figure things out, which was exactly what she needed before entering the gates of Rome. There were good horses at the stables in Firenze, as she had discovered during her visit there the day before. She looked at Catone, wondering how long it would be before she would see him again. Hopefully the next time they met, it would be under better circumstances.

[Catone[Inactive]]

Nodding, he remained stoic. He knew full well what she thought he might've done or else she wouldn't have said it. Honestly, he knew he might've tried it if his Assassin instinct wasn't as strong and so deeply ingrained in him.

Catone met her gaze full on. They shared the same thought, and he could tell. On some level, they both wanted to meet again, but under less stressful circumstances. It was wishful thinking for the both of them. But wishes are powerful enough on their own. When it's shared, the wish is stronger than most anything. Rosa would meet him again, he was counting on it. In fact, he was betting on it.

Pulling back to look her in the eye, he grasped her shoulders. "Let my pay for the carriage. It's the least I could do."

[Rosa Giovanno]

Slowly her head shook, before she even knew she had directed the action. "No, Catone. I won't let you do that." she said quietly. "You've already done so much for me. But thank you. And a ride will be... good for me, I think." She needed to be alone. As painful as it would be, she knew it was necessary. She needed to depend on herself again, as she always had. It was nice, leaning on his shoulder for the time she was with him, but she couldn't let herself get accustomed to it. She didn't want to be dependent on a carriage driver either. Or an escort, or anyone else. The horse was the only exception she would allow herself to make.

These two days were the strangest she had ever experienced, she decided as she stared again at the dirt, taking her gaze away from him. She had become something she never thought she would be, lost that title, and loved and mourned in a way that she never knew she could. Why she loved the child so much was still a mystery to her, and probably always would be. It was hardly even a child, after all. She hadn't had time to become attached to it. But the sorrow was just as real, and that was all she knew. "I'm sorry I've been such a mess." she mumbled to Catone, imagining how strange it must look to him, the whole scene. But she was thankful for his support, even when she wasn't sure how or why he put up with her - her sappy crying fits, her rage, her antics and innuendos, her seemingly polar mood changes and everything she had imposed on him. She knew this wasn't who she was; or at least, she hadn't known this strange emotional part of her existed. But she would always be grateful for what he did.

[Catone[Inactive]]

For a second, he considered her own insight of horseback. He never knew she liked riding. Then again, they barely knew each other.

"Don't be, Bella." She had every reason to be this way. Even he could tell that her 'normal' personality was some facade that she put on. This had been a brief insight into her real self, albeit all of it within a short time. Still, he wanted to ensure her safety on the road. Perhaps.... No, his hidden blade was too dangerous to give her without training. His hand traveled toward his back and grabbed a skinny blade. "But, it's dangerous to go alone. Here, take this."

Offering the stiletto knife to her, he gave a sly grin. "Not that you need it. I saw that fan of yours, but just in case..."

He wanted her to be safe. To live a full and long life, but a happy one as well. Any small thing he could do to bring a smile to her face, he would do it. After all, she had a beautiful smile, one that he wished he could see every day.

[Rosa Giovanno]

Delicately accepting the knife, she examined it cautiously. It was interesting, and certainly something much more deadly than she had ever held before. Where her fan just made her feel secure, was comfortable in her hand and was there for defense, this blade was a weapon of both protection and offense. For one gruesome moment, she wondered what lives it had taken. None without due cause, she thought to herself, still carefully holding it and wondering how she would carry it with her without a sheath. Maybe if she wrapped it carefully in some clothes in her bag - it shouldn't harm anything just laying in there. It would take some force to cut or pierce anything. Her eyes rose up to meet his. "I will return it to you when we see each other again."

She ran her fingers over the dirt one last time before forcing herself to stand. Honestly, Rosa would have liked some time alone at the grave, though she knew she would have left hours later if that were the case. His constant presence kept her from that, but also kept her head that much more squarely on her shoulders. Reaching down to him, she motioned for him to stand, too. It wasn't often that she said goodbye and meant it, as if her time spent with individuals was truly 'good'. Just as rarely, she thought to herself, did she ever do anything honest or honorable. And even while the time she spent with him was sad, for a while he had helped her forget. Because he really was a good guy. "Goodbye, Catone." she said with a breath, and paused to look at him for a moment before she hugged him. "I'm glad you came when you did." was all she said, when there was so much more she could have said. He would understand in time. And even if he didn't, it wouldn't change anything.

[Catone[Inactive]]

Some small part of him didn't want her to return the knife while the rest of his being was just excited at the prospect that she expected to meet again.

And then came her farewell. Welcoming the last embrace with rueful lopsided grin, he returned it. "I'll be seeing you around, Bella." Stepping back to gaze into her eyes, he playfully smirked. "You can bet on it."

A small chuckle erupted from his sincere promise, one filled with a sort of regret but mostly hope. Friends always found each other. Considering their shared secrets, they would be likely even more so. "I have a knack for showing up at the right time."

His hand found hers and brought it up to his lips in a small kiss. Was he trying to hard to be suave? Mayhaps. Still, it was common courtesy to show a beautiful lady such respect when parting ways.

[Rosa Giovanno]

She smiled sadly, sweetly as he kissed her hand. He was making it very difficult to leave. Everything was difficult to leave. Everything was difficult to return to. Her hand went from his lips to his cheek, stroking his beard in sort of a farewell. "Yes, you do." was all she said, and then forced her feet away from where she stood.

She walked slowly, gradually increasing her speed as she increased her distance. Her head stayed low, her face turned to the ground. Rosa didn't dare look over her shoulder at him. Not because she didn't want to, but because she knew that if she did, she'd cry. She was already crying, she realized, as bitterly familiar tears stung her sore eyes.

The barn wasn't too far, and seemed to be relatively quiet. Untying the gelding she liked best, she packed her belongings onto him before pulling herself onto his back. Dark hooves and steady movements carried her obediently down the roads until she was free from Firenze, and rode the path between two indistinct circles of hell masked in beauty and the false promise of peace.

[Catone[Inactive]]

Catone felt a heaviness in his chest as she turned and walked away. With every step, he only sensed some urgency spurring him to go after her, stop her, somehow make her stay. No. He couldn't. Glancing at the clouds, he felt his hand curl as if it remembered the softness of her skin and the tenderness of her touch.

Soon, he lost sight of her as she turned a corner. Without a second's hesitation, he sprinted to the nearest building and hoisted himself up to the top of a nearby tower in record time. Turning, the Gondoliere watched as Rosa fled the city on her steed, his longing growing as the distance between them grew. A few seconds more and she was gone, leaving him alone in this great big city. He collapsed into a sitting position and set down to think for a while. He needed it.

____

Eight days later....

"Requiscat en Pace."

The phrase was barely uttered before the target slumped forward onto his desk, blood pouring from the gaping hole in his neck. Silently, the Assassin climbed out the window and fled the scene.

He would have to keep low for a while and he knew the perfect place to go. Walking through the streets was easy, no alarms had been rung yet. Nonchalantly, he payed for some flowers before heading to his spot. In no time at all, he arrived at the graveyard and sat down by a small patch of small grass, fresher than the rest. "Hello, little one."

Tenderly, he placed the flowers in an obscure way to hide them from any prying eyes. "It's getting harder to find you now that the grass has started come back. Spring lets it grow quicker than ever. Sorry for not coming by yesterday, it was a night long mission and I had to prepare for it."

A small chuckle interrupted his excuse as the sound of bells reached his ears. They must've found the body. "I got him though. It was easier than I expected. Anyways, I guess that means I've got to leave now." He sighed in disappointment. "Only to be expected. Hey, but every time I'm in Firenze, I'll drop by. After all, your mother isn't able to come visit often, so she needs help checking in."

He had been here for almost every day since she left. Oddly enough, he felt some attachment to the child. Quite macabre, considering that he never knew it and it was dead. But, he knew Rosa and guessed that it would've been a great child just because of her. After all, in his brief time with her, he saw a side of her most rarely viewed. She would've been a great mother. "Don't blame your mama. Her work and her home is too far away to come by every month, let alone every day."

Standing, he walked over to a nearby tree and carved a symbol into it. It didn't make long and the tree now had a new tattoo of an upside down Assassin Mark on it. "To find you again. Don't want be talking to some other grave, eh?"

With that, he patted his work and strode away. An hour passes and he is in a carriage halfway to Venezia. As the car bustled, he lost himself in though and muttered a soft promise. "I'll be back, soon."