Knives Don't Have Your Back: Chapter VI
Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood
Rated: R (NC17 overall)
Word Count: 4,185 / 90,339
Knives Don't Have Your Back
† VI †
To celebrate the success in Senigallia Cesare had ordered a masquerade be thrown at Castel Sant’Angelo upon their return. Nobles, lauded generals and a bevy of foreign allies had received invitations. Cesare, seeking to purify his reputation with the people of Roma, had called for a carnival to be held in the coming weeks. If they didn’t love him for his persecution of his late “barbarous, traitorous men,” they would adore him after a few weeks of wine-filled excitement.
Teodor pushed through the doors of Castel Sant’Angelo and made his way to the feast. The walls were lined with rich tapestries in red and purple and torches burned bright in every corner, chasing away shadows. As he entered the main room his vision was blurred by a hundred moving bodies. Tables lined the room on either side of him and in the middle was a group of people waiting to greet their benefactor, Cesare Borgia. Cesare sat at the far end of the hall in a chair that resembled a throne, lined with velvet and gilded with the brightest gold. Next to Cesare sat his sister Lucrezia and the ever-present Micheletto.
Cesare had exchanged his regular armor for an outfit of pure white. A gold chain hung across his shoulders and chest. His golden mask complimented his clothing, intricately made and topped with white feathers. Teodor noted the choice in costume, impressed by the message it sent. He felt keenly aware of his own clothes, dressed in a black jerkin and shirt, the cuffs of which were laced with silver.
Teodor waited patiently amidst the throng of supplicants. When it was his turn to approach the table he knelt before Cesare and removed his mask.
“Captain General,” Teodor said.
“Officer Viscardi,” acknowledged Cesare with a vicious smile. “Thank you for your assistance in these trying times.”
“As always, it is an honor to serve you,” Teodor responded promptly, standing. “I look forward to many more successful campaigns.”
Cesare gave Teodor an assessing look, but merely nodded. “Enjoy the party, Officer Viscardi.”
Teodor bowed and made his exit, backing away a respectful distance before turning into the crowd. There were people everywhere, disguised and happy for it. Teodor remembered his own mask and quickly moved to tie it on. Crowded as it was, he elbowed a few people by accident.
“My apologies,” he said, nodding to the blond man he’d hit squarely in the shoulder. The man stared at him, the simple brown mask on his face framing shockingly blue eyes. “Excuse-”
“Teodor!” came a familiar voice. A hand wrapped around his arm, pulling him away from the crowd. Teodor allowed it, easily recognizing Donato’s beard poking out from beneath a luxurious red mask. He followed Donato to a table on the left side of the room.
“I have saved us seats,” Donato said as they sat. He reached over and fussed with the ribbon holding Teodor’s mask in place. “It is crooked,” he said by way of explanation.
“How did you even know it was me?” Teodor teased, smiling as a serving boy arrived with wine.
“Only my Teodor would dress for a funeral when attending a party,” Donato said, settling in his chair.
Teodor snorted, picking up his goblet. “I look good in black.”
“That you do,” said Donato charitably. Opposite of Teodor’s dark ensemble Donato was dressed in a doublet the brightest of reds, the slashed sleeves showing off the gold shirt beneath. Had Teodor seen him from across the room he would have given pause.
“A toast,” Teodor said, holding out his glass to Donato. “A toast to you, my handsome friend, and all the successes we’ve shared.”
“You couldn’t have done it without me,” Donato grinned, and tapped his glass to Teodor’s.
More serving boys came, this time bearing platters of assorted fruits and breads, followed by roast pork and lamb. Teodor and Donato talked between mouthfuls of food and wine until Donato’s eyes settled on a redheaded woman in a striking green gown. Teodor was semi-thankful for his friend’s distraction as he made his own observations about the room. Most eyes were trained on the pair of harlequin performers in the middle of the floor. The man was dressed in blue and green, the woman in purple and gold. Together they put on an impressive display of acrobatics and knife play.
Teodor’s roaming gaze found a pair of blue eyes staring at him on more than one occasion. Sitting at the table across the room was the blond man Teodor had bumped into earlier in the crowd. He was tall, dressed in dark brown and pale blue. Underneath the mask were high cheekbones, beneath it a strong mouth. Teodor nodded at the man the first time he caught him staring. The blond man looked away. The second time Teodor noticed him, the man gazed at him intently.
This time Teodor looked away, wetting his suddenly dry mouth with wine. Flustered, he turned to see how Donato’s conquest was going.
Unsurprisingly, the redhead was now sitting on Donato’s other side, half of her body on the chair, the other half in Donato’s lap. Donato was laughing and whispering into her throat, one strong arm wrapped around the woman’s waist.
Noticing the attention, Donato turned a lazy eye to Teodor, then smiled. “Teodor! Oh Teodor, this is the lovely Lucetta.”
“Enchanté,” Teodor said, reaching across to take the woman’s hand. Lucetta giggled as Teodor kissed her hand, while Donato gave him a warning look. Teodor smirked in return, then turned the most earnest gaze he could manage on Lucetta. “Indeed, you are most lovely. In fact, you are easily the most beautiful woman at this party.”
A faint blush appeared beneath the gold lace of Lucetta’s mask.
“Teodor is one of my soldiers,” Donato said, sounding peeved. “I have saved his life numerous times.”
Teodor smiled and ducked his head. He held up his hands in surrender. “Indeed he has. Now excuse me,” Teodor said, standing. “Too much wine, I’m afraid.”
Leaving Donato to further his cause, Teodor moved through the room. He took care to visit with the military officials and noblemen he knew, spending a few moments assuring De Valois that the festivals held in France were much better than the ones in Italia.
Tables were moved and food was taken away as the ballroom was cleared for dancing. In the brief chaos, Teodor found himself standing at the far wall with a half-empty goblet in hand. Across the room he spotted a familiar silhouette moving in the shadows.
Teodor had noticed Malfatto had a certain way of walking. The doctor had a soldier’s near perfect posture, but he didn’t carry himself with any sort of rigidity. Malfatto’s movement was always accented with intent. Where most people would swing their arms ever-so-slightly as they walked, Malfatto never did. Instead he seemed to compensate with his shoulders and hips, a slight twisting across his back that gave his every step great purpose. Both tall and thin, Malfatto never appeared gangly because of this controlled movement.
Teodor slipped along the wall, making his way closer to the dark corner where he’d seen Malfatto. To his surprise, it was not the doctor that emerged, but instead the blond man from before. Teodor halted immediately, thankful he was still half a room away. The distance didn’t seem to matter to the blond man who scanned the room quickly, blue eyes locking onto Teodor’s when he found him.
Clearly, the man was interested in Teodor for some reason. Teodor’s first thought was that the man was still irritated about being elbowed in the receiving line, but that idea was quickly dismissed as irrational. Teodor watched as the blond man leaned against the wall to avoid the bustling staff. He continued his staring.
The second and most likely option was that he was a contracted killer sent to dispatch of Teodor under the cover of swirling skirts and moonlight. Teodor almost kicked himself for not realizing the possibility sooner. He made his own quick scan of the room, looking for other potential assassins amidst the revelers. He didn’t see anything unusual, but that didn’t mean much considering everyone was masked. Teodor turned to look back at the man and was met once again with the same expressionless stare. Blood began to roar in Teodor’s ears.
“Signore?” came a voice.
Teodor twitched at the interruption, furious at whoever had spoken. Beside him stood the courier from this morning. He bowed his head politely before holding out a piece of parchment.
“I delivered your package,” the courier said. “You said you’d want me to-”
“Give it here.” Irritated, Teodor snatched the letter from the man. He broke the wax seal and read it.
Disappointment flared in Teodor’s chest but he shoved both it and the letter away for the time being. The courier raised an eyebrow, his hand extended for the expected tip.
Teodor’s disappointment turned to annoyance. He pressed a coin into the courier’s hand. “Here. Now get out of my sight,” he snapped.
As the courier hurried away, another person approached Teodor. This time it was Donato with two goblets in hand, flushed and smiling.
“A bit harsh on the boy, were we,” Donato said, amused. He handed Teodor a full goblet and took the empty cup from Teodor’s grasp, handing it to a passing servant. “I never took you for a mean drunk, mio fratello.”
“Drunk?” Teodor scoffed. “I’m French.” He peered back into the shadows in the corner. The blond man was still there. Teodor tipped his head to Donato. “That man keeps staring at me.”
Donato took a sip of wine, looking over to the stranger. “Creepy,” he declared.
“I don’t trust it,” Teodor replied, eyes narrowing.
Donato laughed. “My Teodor, always so suspicious. He probably is just admiring the view,” he said, voice dropping to a hushed tone. He made a lewd gesture with his hands.
Teodor’s brain stuttered to a stop. That was an option he hadn’t considered. He watched the blond man’s mouth twist in puzzlement at Donato’s tasteless gesture.
“Should I challenge him to protect your honor?” Donato teased. He laughed and thrust his hips suggestively at the stranger. The blond man looked both curious and horrified and turned away. Teodor relaxed, and now instead of anxious he was thoughtful at such a possibility.
Donato was laughing once again, this time on the verge of making a scene. Teodor glanced at him and couldn’t help his small smile in the face of his friend’s enthusiasm.
“My honor remains intact,” Teodor murmured, raising his glass to his lips.
“Yes, and now you owe me a debt,” Donato said. He hooked his arm through Teodor’s and began steering them back to the other side of the room. “Despite your efforts to sabotage me, you sneaky Frenchman, I believe I have won over the heart of the Lady Lucetta.”
Teodor laughed. “I had no idea it was her heart you were interested in.”
“Hush! It is love I seek,” Donato said with a terrifying amount of sincerity. Teodor shook his head but Donato continued. “However, it would seem my Lucetta came to the party with her dear friend Paola-”
Teodor groaned. “Donato-”
“-And poor, sweet Paola must not be left alone! Her heart would break.”
“I am sure Paola can handle sitting out one dance.”
“One dance? Oh Teodor, maybe for you, but I intend to have many, many dances if you know what I mean.”
“You cannot be serious,” Teodor muttered.
“Oh look, here we are!” Donato chirped, giving Teodor’s arm a brutal squeeze as they came to a stop beside a small table. Lucetta was whispering with a tall, black-haired woman Teodor assumed was Paola. Paola’s dress and mask were in the same style as her friend’s, but instead of green and gold she had opted for pink and white.
“Three dances. Or I will tell the story of how I taught you to dance in that camp outside Forli,” Teodor threatened through clenched teeth. He bowed and kissed Paola’s hand in the same fashion he had greeted Lucetta.
“We do not speak of that,” Donato replied in a low tone, a smile plastered on his face. “Although you did make for a very ugly woman.”
Teodor glared. Donato rolled his eyes and nodded his acceptance.
Satisfied, Teodor turned his attention back to Paola. Charming women had never been a particular strength of Teodor’s, but he found that simple flattery, good manners, and an occasional slip of his native tongue got him further than most. It was also likely that his intention never to bed the ladies he conversed with seemed to grant them some relief. Others, consternation, but he dealt with that bridge when he got to it.
Luckily, Paola seemed enthused with the idea of dancing itself. As they took their spot on the floor, she flashed a knowing smile to Lucetta, then Teodor.
“Do keep up,” she challenged, expression bright.
“I will do my best,” Teodor promised. She curtsied, he bowed, then he took her hand and they were off.
Although Teodor had spent much of his time in the military over the past years, he had been raised in a noble house which meant he had spent many hours learning to dance. While he was not the most natural of dancers or the most practiced, he wasn’t without skill. As he circled the floor with Paola she took on a pleased expression.
“Not bad,” she complimented. Teodor smiled.
Next to them Donato and Lucetta were having a good time. It was true that Teodor had once spent four nights in Forli teaching Donato how to dance in exchange for a particularly exquisite dagger. Whether or not Teodor had actually borrowed a maid’s skirt during that time was complete speculation (for the maid’s part it was rather lovely of her to not complain about Donato’s boot marks on the hem).
As they danced Teodor’s eyes searched the crowd for the blond man. Sure enough, he found him standing in the back of the crowd, one arm crossed over his chest, goblet in hand. His blue eyes followed Teodor’s path along the floor.
“Friend of yours?” Paola asked as she moved around him, one hand clasped in Teodor’s above their heads.
“No, not especially,” he replied.
Soon the music stopped and the two couples retreated to a table. Teodor sat as Donato excused himself to use the lavatory. Lucetta and Paola discussed something between their bowed heads. After a moment they seemed to come to a conclusion and focused twin smiles on Teodor.
“So-” began Lucetta.
“We have a proposition for you,” finished Paola.
Teodor took a hasty sip of wine, not sure where this was headed.
Lucetta started again. “Now, you and your friend are both very nice men, but-”
“You see, we only really need-”
“Well I wouldn’t say need. What I’m trying to say-”
“Lucetta and I, we have an understanding,” Paola said, giving Teodor a knowing look. “And instead of spending the night apart with you and your friend, we would prefer to spend it-”
“Together,” Lucetta finished, clasping Paola’s hand in hers. “But with a single guest.”
The two women watched Teodor expectantly. He thought of having another sip of wine but then thought perhaps he had already had enough.
“And you would like to know if I would be that guest,” Teodor said slowly, allowing the words to sink in. When they did, Teodor couldn’t help the laughter that suddenly bubbled out of him. He pressed a fist to his mouth, but was helpless for several seconds.
Paola and Lucetta seemed less than enthused at his reaction. As soon as Teodor recovered he took each woman by the hand and offered them a sheepish smile.
“My ladies,” he said, “my apologies for my behavior. Were I so inclined, I would be overjoyed instead of simply humbled by your proposition. Unfortunately, I am not, as I said, so inclined,” and he emphasized the last word, turning his head in the direction of the blue-eyed stranger. Paola made a small sound of understanding.
Teodor nodded. “Once again, I apologize, but I must decline your offer. Might I recommend my friend Donato in my stead? You will find him a much more...enthusiastic and grateful participant.”
Lucetta still looked mildly confused, but Paola smiled warmly at him. “A welcome suggestion,” she said. “May I offer to give your friend any parting words you might have had for him, since you will be gone by the time he returns?”
“What?” Teodor asked, losing his footing.
Paola pointed to a far table. “It seems your friend has grown impatient.”
Teodor turned just in time to see the blond man moving through the crowd, heading, it seemed, to the dark mahogany doors that led to the courtyard. He turned and looked to Paola, who made a shooing motion with her hand. With a hasty adieu thrown over his shoulder, Teodor made a beeline for the door.
Teodor inhaled sharply as he stepped into the cold air. He had seen the blond man slip out just before he had made it to the doors, but at first glance Teodor saw no one in the shadows. The slight courage he had built up left him as he faced an empty, chilly night, and Teodor felt a bit foolish.
He was just a man, Teodor reminded himself. It wasn’t as if there weren’t a half dozen inside that would hold the same sort of interests as he. Yet somewhere deep in his gut Teodor knew there was more to this stranger than that. Perhaps he really was a killer, or maybe a long forgotten man from his past--or maybe Teodor couldn’t forget the way he had moved like Malfatto with his shoulders sliding back and forth in easy rhythm. He hadn’t even looked at the man’s hands, he realized, hoping for long spidery fingers, strong and graceful.
Teodor rolled his left shoulder as he began to move through the courtyard, remembering the soft hands that had put it back together. A few straggling lovers and drunkards roamed with Teodor, bodies and faces blurred by the dim light of a few burning torches. The moon was nowhere to be seen, blackened by a brutish gathering of clouds.
“Signore?” Teodor whispered as he walked, not knowing what else to say. Had he a name he would have called it.
He had almost given into defeat, preparing to retire to his thoroughly frustrating quarters, when he heard the crunch of gravel behind him. Teodor’s hand went instinctively to the hilt of a small, belted dagger, but he didn’t draw.
Teodor moved to face the man, but before he had turned fully around he was grabbed and knocked off balance. Teodor stumbled as the blond man pushed him backwards, strong hands wrapped around each of his upper arms. Instinctively, he attempted to unsheathe his knife. Teodor winced as his spine connected with the rough stone wall of the palace, sending waves of numbness down through his fingertips. Panic clawed in his chest at the assault, and yet he wasn’t afraid.
The blond man’s attack stopped as abruptly as it had begun. His masked face was inches from Teodor’s own, blue eyes bright and unreadable, his mouth an open frown. Teodor’s eyes zoomed in on the clean jaw, the slightly dark stain on his lips.
“State your purpose,” Teodor managed, his last speck of self-preservation making itself known. It was at odds with the excited humming of his body, but he had long been a doubting man.
The stranger’s head tipped to the side and Teodor groaned as ten fingers dug into his elbows. The only warning Teodor received was a narrowing of blue eyes before the man’s lips met his.
Teodor wouldn’t have called it a kiss. If it was it was the driest, firmest, most clinical kiss Teodor had ever experienced, as if pressing two mouths together was simply common courtesy. Still, it was enough to send a spark through Teodor’s skin. As a sign of encouragement, Teodor belatedly took his hand off the hilt of his knife and gave the man’s bottom lip a slight nibble.
The stranger pulled back decidedly at the feel of Teodor’s teeth, blue eyes looking over Teodor’s face with puzzlement. Teodor squirmed in frustration, disappointed at this anticlimactic culmination after hours of staring and stalking. And then it was suddenly clear to him-the staring, the silence, the surprise attack and now this-this was new. He wasn’t sure what exactly was new to the stranger, be it men or inconsequential encounters, but now Teodor knew what to do.
Teodor smiled, eyeing the stranger before him with brand new intent. The man’s expression changed at the sudden shift and Teodor felt a wholly more predatory attitude overtake him.
“Here, just let me...” Teodor murmured, shaking his arms a bit. The man released him and stepped back, and even under the mask Teodor could see the growing disappointment. Teodor reached out and snagged the man around one wrist, offering a warm smile.
“No, just wait,” Teodor said. He gave the stranger’s wrist a slight tug, then reached out with his other hand to take the man by the shirt and pull him close. This time Teodor had enough maneuverability to angle his head and brace his feet, compensating for the initial stumbling as they moved against the wall once more. Their noses bumped against each other, the masks making the slightest of sounds. Teodor smiled against a smooth cheek, his eyes never leaving the shocked blue stare of the other man.
“Open your mouth,” Teodor commanded. When the man hesitated, Teodor gave
him a soft lick to his top lip. “I said open your mouth,” he repeated, and this time the stranger complied. Teodor hummed in satisfaction as their mouths finally connected, his tongue sliding easily over the man’s teeth. He was almost immediately rewarded with an answering groan and peeked through his eyelashes just in time to see blue eyes slide shut.
After that things went much easier. Leaving one hand knotted in the man’s shirt, Teodor used his other to coax the man’s hips to his, pressing them close. He used the wall behind him for leverage, managing to find a decent angle to fit their bodies together. The stranger followed suit, bracing himself with one arm and sliding a leg to the outside of Teodor’s hip, pinning him more effectively than he had with his hands. Oh and the hands. Teodor was not disappointed. He moaned outright when the stranger cupped his face with long fingers, breaking the kiss to suck the thumb in his mouth.
Fast learner or vastly underestimated-Teodor couldn’t tell-and he soon found himself with his head turned against hard rock, a finger hooked in the corner of his mouth as the man sucked a deep bruise into the base of his throat. Teodor had one hand busy with the lacing of the stranger’s leather breeches, the other holding fast to his blond head, when the sound of a door opening brought everything to a halt.
“Wait,” Teodor whispered, mouth working around the digit pulling at his cheek. The stranger seemed unconcerned with their imminent discovery and only sucked harder. Teodor bit back a groan and pushed the man off of him, wobbling on weak knees as they broke apart.
Out of the corner of his eye Teodor could see the first in a long line of people exiting the door of the Castel Sant’Angelo. He hurriedly wiped his face with the back of his hand and straightened his mask. The stranger in front of him turned a bored expression to the crowd, then looked back to Teodor, not bothering to fix his disheveled appearance. He reached out to smooth Teodor’s shirt, but Teodor twisted out of reach.
“Stop,” Teodor hissed. The man jerked and rocked back on his heels. His eyes burned into Teodor’s, aroused and stubborn. He reached out to Teodor again, and this time Teodor slapped his hand.
Instantly Teodor regretted his action. The man knotted the offended hand into a fist, and for a moment Teodor tensed, anticipating a blow. They stared at each other for a moment, one angered and one apologetic. Teodor glanced nervously to the crowd, noting how the revelers were getting closer.
The stranger followed Teodor’s gaze, hands dropping to his sides. He gave Teodor one last look before turning his back to him and walking forward into the crowd. Teodor watched, and when he could no longer distinguish one mask from the next he muttered a string of curses under his breath, frustrated and ashamed. A head or two turned towards him.
Before he could make a further scene, Teodor turned and fled in the direction of the barracks.
† † †
NOTICE: Fanart now exists for this story! Please click here to see SilvesterVitale's beautiful depiction of the masquerade scene.
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author's notes | warnings
Rated: R (NC17 overall)
Word Count: 4,185 / 90,339
Knives Don't Have Your Back
† VI †
To celebrate the success in Senigallia Cesare had ordered a masquerade be thrown at Castel Sant’Angelo upon their return. Nobles, lauded generals and a bevy of foreign allies had received invitations. Cesare, seeking to purify his reputation with the people of Roma, had called for a carnival to be held in the coming weeks. If they didn’t love him for his persecution of his late “barbarous, traitorous men,” they would adore him after a few weeks of wine-filled excitement.
Teodor pushed through the doors of Castel Sant’Angelo and made his way to the feast. The walls were lined with rich tapestries in red and purple and torches burned bright in every corner, chasing away shadows. As he entered the main room his vision was blurred by a hundred moving bodies. Tables lined the room on either side of him and in the middle was a group of people waiting to greet their benefactor, Cesare Borgia. Cesare sat at the far end of the hall in a chair that resembled a throne, lined with velvet and gilded with the brightest gold. Next to Cesare sat his sister Lucrezia and the ever-present Micheletto.
Cesare had exchanged his regular armor for an outfit of pure white. A gold chain hung across his shoulders and chest. His golden mask complimented his clothing, intricately made and topped with white feathers. Teodor noted the choice in costume, impressed by the message it sent. He felt keenly aware of his own clothes, dressed in a black jerkin and shirt, the cuffs of which were laced with silver.
Teodor waited patiently amidst the throng of supplicants. When it was his turn to approach the table he knelt before Cesare and removed his mask.
“Captain General,” Teodor said.
“Officer Viscardi,” acknowledged Cesare with a vicious smile. “Thank you for your assistance in these trying times.”
“As always, it is an honor to serve you,” Teodor responded promptly, standing. “I look forward to many more successful campaigns.”
Cesare gave Teodor an assessing look, but merely nodded. “Enjoy the party, Officer Viscardi.”
Teodor bowed and made his exit, backing away a respectful distance before turning into the crowd. There were people everywhere, disguised and happy for it. Teodor remembered his own mask and quickly moved to tie it on. Crowded as it was, he elbowed a few people by accident.
“My apologies,” he said, nodding to the blond man he’d hit squarely in the shoulder. The man stared at him, the simple brown mask on his face framing shockingly blue eyes. “Excuse-”
“Teodor!” came a familiar voice. A hand wrapped around his arm, pulling him away from the crowd. Teodor allowed it, easily recognizing Donato’s beard poking out from beneath a luxurious red mask. He followed Donato to a table on the left side of the room.
“I have saved us seats,” Donato said as they sat. He reached over and fussed with the ribbon holding Teodor’s mask in place. “It is crooked,” he said by way of explanation.
“How did you even know it was me?” Teodor teased, smiling as a serving boy arrived with wine.
“Only my Teodor would dress for a funeral when attending a party,” Donato said, settling in his chair.
Teodor snorted, picking up his goblet. “I look good in black.”
“That you do,” said Donato charitably. Opposite of Teodor’s dark ensemble Donato was dressed in a doublet the brightest of reds, the slashed sleeves showing off the gold shirt beneath. Had Teodor seen him from across the room he would have given pause.
“A toast,” Teodor said, holding out his glass to Donato. “A toast to you, my handsome friend, and all the successes we’ve shared.”
“You couldn’t have done it without me,” Donato grinned, and tapped his glass to Teodor’s.
More serving boys came, this time bearing platters of assorted fruits and breads, followed by roast pork and lamb. Teodor and Donato talked between mouthfuls of food and wine until Donato’s eyes settled on a redheaded woman in a striking green gown. Teodor was semi-thankful for his friend’s distraction as he made his own observations about the room. Most eyes were trained on the pair of harlequin performers in the middle of the floor. The man was dressed in blue and green, the woman in purple and gold. Together they put on an impressive display of acrobatics and knife play.
Teodor’s roaming gaze found a pair of blue eyes staring at him on more than one occasion. Sitting at the table across the room was the blond man Teodor had bumped into earlier in the crowd. He was tall, dressed in dark brown and pale blue. Underneath the mask were high cheekbones, beneath it a strong mouth. Teodor nodded at the man the first time he caught him staring. The blond man looked away. The second time Teodor noticed him, the man gazed at him intently.
This time Teodor looked away, wetting his suddenly dry mouth with wine. Flustered, he turned to see how Donato’s conquest was going.
Unsurprisingly, the redhead was now sitting on Donato’s other side, half of her body on the chair, the other half in Donato’s lap. Donato was laughing and whispering into her throat, one strong arm wrapped around the woman’s waist.
Noticing the attention, Donato turned a lazy eye to Teodor, then smiled. “Teodor! Oh Teodor, this is the lovely Lucetta.”
“Enchanté,” Teodor said, reaching across to take the woman’s hand. Lucetta giggled as Teodor kissed her hand, while Donato gave him a warning look. Teodor smirked in return, then turned the most earnest gaze he could manage on Lucetta. “Indeed, you are most lovely. In fact, you are easily the most beautiful woman at this party.”
A faint blush appeared beneath the gold lace of Lucetta’s mask.
“Teodor is one of my soldiers,” Donato said, sounding peeved. “I have saved his life numerous times.”
Teodor smiled and ducked his head. He held up his hands in surrender. “Indeed he has. Now excuse me,” Teodor said, standing. “Too much wine, I’m afraid.”
Leaving Donato to further his cause, Teodor moved through the room. He took care to visit with the military officials and noblemen he knew, spending a few moments assuring De Valois that the festivals held in France were much better than the ones in Italia.
Tables were moved and food was taken away as the ballroom was cleared for dancing. In the brief chaos, Teodor found himself standing at the far wall with a half-empty goblet in hand. Across the room he spotted a familiar silhouette moving in the shadows.
Teodor had noticed Malfatto had a certain way of walking. The doctor had a soldier’s near perfect posture, but he didn’t carry himself with any sort of rigidity. Malfatto’s movement was always accented with intent. Where most people would swing their arms ever-so-slightly as they walked, Malfatto never did. Instead he seemed to compensate with his shoulders and hips, a slight twisting across his back that gave his every step great purpose. Both tall and thin, Malfatto never appeared gangly because of this controlled movement.
Teodor slipped along the wall, making his way closer to the dark corner where he’d seen Malfatto. To his surprise, it was not the doctor that emerged, but instead the blond man from before. Teodor halted immediately, thankful he was still half a room away. The distance didn’t seem to matter to the blond man who scanned the room quickly, blue eyes locking onto Teodor’s when he found him.
Clearly, the man was interested in Teodor for some reason. Teodor’s first thought was that the man was still irritated about being elbowed in the receiving line, but that idea was quickly dismissed as irrational. Teodor watched as the blond man leaned against the wall to avoid the bustling staff. He continued his staring.
The second and most likely option was that he was a contracted killer sent to dispatch of Teodor under the cover of swirling skirts and moonlight. Teodor almost kicked himself for not realizing the possibility sooner. He made his own quick scan of the room, looking for other potential assassins amidst the revelers. He didn’t see anything unusual, but that didn’t mean much considering everyone was masked. Teodor turned to look back at the man and was met once again with the same expressionless stare. Blood began to roar in Teodor’s ears.
“Signore?” came a voice.
Teodor twitched at the interruption, furious at whoever had spoken. Beside him stood the courier from this morning. He bowed his head politely before holding out a piece of parchment.
“I delivered your package,” the courier said. “You said you’d want me to-”
“Give it here.” Irritated, Teodor snatched the letter from the man. He broke the wax seal and read it.
Disappointment flared in Teodor’s chest but he shoved both it and the letter away for the time being. The courier raised an eyebrow, his hand extended for the expected tip.
Teodor’s disappointment turned to annoyance. He pressed a coin into the courier’s hand. “Here. Now get out of my sight,” he snapped.
As the courier hurried away, another person approached Teodor. This time it was Donato with two goblets in hand, flushed and smiling.
“A bit harsh on the boy, were we,” Donato said, amused. He handed Teodor a full goblet and took the empty cup from Teodor’s grasp, handing it to a passing servant. “I never took you for a mean drunk, mio fratello.”
“Drunk?” Teodor scoffed. “I’m French.” He peered back into the shadows in the corner. The blond man was still there. Teodor tipped his head to Donato. “That man keeps staring at me.”
Donato took a sip of wine, looking over to the stranger. “Creepy,” he declared.
“I don’t trust it,” Teodor replied, eyes narrowing.
Donato laughed. “My Teodor, always so suspicious. He probably is just admiring the view,” he said, voice dropping to a hushed tone. He made a lewd gesture with his hands.
Teodor’s brain stuttered to a stop. That was an option he hadn’t considered. He watched the blond man’s mouth twist in puzzlement at Donato’s tasteless gesture.
“Should I challenge him to protect your honor?” Donato teased. He laughed and thrust his hips suggestively at the stranger. The blond man looked both curious and horrified and turned away. Teodor relaxed, and now instead of anxious he was thoughtful at such a possibility.
Donato was laughing once again, this time on the verge of making a scene. Teodor glanced at him and couldn’t help his small smile in the face of his friend’s enthusiasm.
“My honor remains intact,” Teodor murmured, raising his glass to his lips.
“Yes, and now you owe me a debt,” Donato said. He hooked his arm through Teodor’s and began steering them back to the other side of the room. “Despite your efforts to sabotage me, you sneaky Frenchman, I believe I have won over the heart of the Lady Lucetta.”
Teodor laughed. “I had no idea it was her heart you were interested in.”
“Hush! It is love I seek,” Donato said with a terrifying amount of sincerity. Teodor shook his head but Donato continued. “However, it would seem my Lucetta came to the party with her dear friend Paola-”
Teodor groaned. “Donato-”
“-And poor, sweet Paola must not be left alone! Her heart would break.”
“I am sure Paola can handle sitting out one dance.”
“One dance? Oh Teodor, maybe for you, but I intend to have many, many dances if you know what I mean.”
“You cannot be serious,” Teodor muttered.
“Oh look, here we are!” Donato chirped, giving Teodor’s arm a brutal squeeze as they came to a stop beside a small table. Lucetta was whispering with a tall, black-haired woman Teodor assumed was Paola. Paola’s dress and mask were in the same style as her friend’s, but instead of green and gold she had opted for pink and white.
“Three dances. Or I will tell the story of how I taught you to dance in that camp outside Forli,” Teodor threatened through clenched teeth. He bowed and kissed Paola’s hand in the same fashion he had greeted Lucetta.
“We do not speak of that,” Donato replied in a low tone, a smile plastered on his face. “Although you did make for a very ugly woman.”
Teodor glared. Donato rolled his eyes and nodded his acceptance.
Satisfied, Teodor turned his attention back to Paola. Charming women had never been a particular strength of Teodor’s, but he found that simple flattery, good manners, and an occasional slip of his native tongue got him further than most. It was also likely that his intention never to bed the ladies he conversed with seemed to grant them some relief. Others, consternation, but he dealt with that bridge when he got to it.
Luckily, Paola seemed enthused with the idea of dancing itself. As they took their spot on the floor, she flashed a knowing smile to Lucetta, then Teodor.
“Do keep up,” she challenged, expression bright.
“I will do my best,” Teodor promised. She curtsied, he bowed, then he took her hand and they were off.
Although Teodor had spent much of his time in the military over the past years, he had been raised in a noble house which meant he had spent many hours learning to dance. While he was not the most natural of dancers or the most practiced, he wasn’t without skill. As he circled the floor with Paola she took on a pleased expression.
“Not bad,” she complimented. Teodor smiled.
Next to them Donato and Lucetta were having a good time. It was true that Teodor had once spent four nights in Forli teaching Donato how to dance in exchange for a particularly exquisite dagger. Whether or not Teodor had actually borrowed a maid’s skirt during that time was complete speculation (for the maid’s part it was rather lovely of her to not complain about Donato’s boot marks on the hem).
As they danced Teodor’s eyes searched the crowd for the blond man. Sure enough, he found him standing in the back of the crowd, one arm crossed over his chest, goblet in hand. His blue eyes followed Teodor’s path along the floor.
“Friend of yours?” Paola asked as she moved around him, one hand clasped in Teodor’s above their heads.
“No, not especially,” he replied.
Soon the music stopped and the two couples retreated to a table. Teodor sat as Donato excused himself to use the lavatory. Lucetta and Paola discussed something between their bowed heads. After a moment they seemed to come to a conclusion and focused twin smiles on Teodor.
“So-” began Lucetta.
“We have a proposition for you,” finished Paola.
Teodor took a hasty sip of wine, not sure where this was headed.
Lucetta started again. “Now, you and your friend are both very nice men, but-”
“You see, we only really need-”
“Well I wouldn’t say need. What I’m trying to say-”
“Lucetta and I, we have an understanding,” Paola said, giving Teodor a knowing look. “And instead of spending the night apart with you and your friend, we would prefer to spend it-”
“Together,” Lucetta finished, clasping Paola’s hand in hers. “But with a single guest.”
The two women watched Teodor expectantly. He thought of having another sip of wine but then thought perhaps he had already had enough.
“And you would like to know if I would be that guest,” Teodor said slowly, allowing the words to sink in. When they did, Teodor couldn’t help the laughter that suddenly bubbled out of him. He pressed a fist to his mouth, but was helpless for several seconds.
Paola and Lucetta seemed less than enthused at his reaction. As soon as Teodor recovered he took each woman by the hand and offered them a sheepish smile.
“My ladies,” he said, “my apologies for my behavior. Were I so inclined, I would be overjoyed instead of simply humbled by your proposition. Unfortunately, I am not, as I said, so inclined,” and he emphasized the last word, turning his head in the direction of the blue-eyed stranger. Paola made a small sound of understanding.
Teodor nodded. “Once again, I apologize, but I must decline your offer. Might I recommend my friend Donato in my stead? You will find him a much more...enthusiastic and grateful participant.”
Lucetta still looked mildly confused, but Paola smiled warmly at him. “A welcome suggestion,” she said. “May I offer to give your friend any parting words you might have had for him, since you will be gone by the time he returns?”
“What?” Teodor asked, losing his footing.
Paola pointed to a far table. “It seems your friend has grown impatient.”
Teodor turned just in time to see the blond man moving through the crowd, heading, it seemed, to the dark mahogany doors that led to the courtyard. He turned and looked to Paola, who made a shooing motion with her hand. With a hasty adieu thrown over his shoulder, Teodor made a beeline for the door.
Teodor inhaled sharply as he stepped into the cold air. He had seen the blond man slip out just before he had made it to the doors, but at first glance Teodor saw no one in the shadows. The slight courage he had built up left him as he faced an empty, chilly night, and Teodor felt a bit foolish.
He was just a man, Teodor reminded himself. It wasn’t as if there weren’t a half dozen inside that would hold the same sort of interests as he. Yet somewhere deep in his gut Teodor knew there was more to this stranger than that. Perhaps he really was a killer, or maybe a long forgotten man from his past--or maybe Teodor couldn’t forget the way he had moved like Malfatto with his shoulders sliding back and forth in easy rhythm. He hadn’t even looked at the man’s hands, he realized, hoping for long spidery fingers, strong and graceful.
Teodor rolled his left shoulder as he began to move through the courtyard, remembering the soft hands that had put it back together. A few straggling lovers and drunkards roamed with Teodor, bodies and faces blurred by the dim light of a few burning torches. The moon was nowhere to be seen, blackened by a brutish gathering of clouds.
“Signore?” Teodor whispered as he walked, not knowing what else to say. Had he a name he would have called it.
He had almost given into defeat, preparing to retire to his thoroughly frustrating quarters, when he heard the crunch of gravel behind him. Teodor’s hand went instinctively to the hilt of a small, belted dagger, but he didn’t draw.
Teodor moved to face the man, but before he had turned fully around he was grabbed and knocked off balance. Teodor stumbled as the blond man pushed him backwards, strong hands wrapped around each of his upper arms. Instinctively, he attempted to unsheathe his knife. Teodor winced as his spine connected with the rough stone wall of the palace, sending waves of numbness down through his fingertips. Panic clawed in his chest at the assault, and yet he wasn’t afraid.
The blond man’s attack stopped as abruptly as it had begun. His masked face was inches from Teodor’s own, blue eyes bright and unreadable, his mouth an open frown. Teodor’s eyes zoomed in on the clean jaw, the slightly dark stain on his lips.
“State your purpose,” Teodor managed, his last speck of self-preservation making itself known. It was at odds with the excited humming of his body, but he had long been a doubting man.
The stranger’s head tipped to the side and Teodor groaned as ten fingers dug into his elbows. The only warning Teodor received was a narrowing of blue eyes before the man’s lips met his.
Teodor wouldn’t have called it a kiss. If it was it was the driest, firmest, most clinical kiss Teodor had ever experienced, as if pressing two mouths together was simply common courtesy. Still, it was enough to send a spark through Teodor’s skin. As a sign of encouragement, Teodor belatedly took his hand off the hilt of his knife and gave the man’s bottom lip a slight nibble.
The stranger pulled back decidedly at the feel of Teodor’s teeth, blue eyes looking over Teodor’s face with puzzlement. Teodor squirmed in frustration, disappointed at this anticlimactic culmination after hours of staring and stalking. And then it was suddenly clear to him-the staring, the silence, the surprise attack and now this-this was new. He wasn’t sure what exactly was new to the stranger, be it men or inconsequential encounters, but now Teodor knew what to do.
Teodor smiled, eyeing the stranger before him with brand new intent. The man’s expression changed at the sudden shift and Teodor felt a wholly more predatory attitude overtake him.
“Here, just let me...” Teodor murmured, shaking his arms a bit. The man released him and stepped back, and even under the mask Teodor could see the growing disappointment. Teodor reached out and snagged the man around one wrist, offering a warm smile.
“No, just wait,” Teodor said. He gave the stranger’s wrist a slight tug, then reached out with his other hand to take the man by the shirt and pull him close. This time Teodor had enough maneuverability to angle his head and brace his feet, compensating for the initial stumbling as they moved against the wall once more. Their noses bumped against each other, the masks making the slightest of sounds. Teodor smiled against a smooth cheek, his eyes never leaving the shocked blue stare of the other man.
“Open your mouth,” Teodor commanded. When the man hesitated, Teodor gave
him a soft lick to his top lip. “I said open your mouth,” he repeated, and this time the stranger complied. Teodor hummed in satisfaction as their mouths finally connected, his tongue sliding easily over the man’s teeth. He was almost immediately rewarded with an answering groan and peeked through his eyelashes just in time to see blue eyes slide shut.
After that things went much easier. Leaving one hand knotted in the man’s shirt, Teodor used his other to coax the man’s hips to his, pressing them close. He used the wall behind him for leverage, managing to find a decent angle to fit their bodies together. The stranger followed suit, bracing himself with one arm and sliding a leg to the outside of Teodor’s hip, pinning him more effectively than he had with his hands. Oh and the hands. Teodor was not disappointed. He moaned outright when the stranger cupped his face with long fingers, breaking the kiss to suck the thumb in his mouth.
Fast learner or vastly underestimated-Teodor couldn’t tell-and he soon found himself with his head turned against hard rock, a finger hooked in the corner of his mouth as the man sucked a deep bruise into the base of his throat. Teodor had one hand busy with the lacing of the stranger’s leather breeches, the other holding fast to his blond head, when the sound of a door opening brought everything to a halt.
“Wait,” Teodor whispered, mouth working around the digit pulling at his cheek. The stranger seemed unconcerned with their imminent discovery and only sucked harder. Teodor bit back a groan and pushed the man off of him, wobbling on weak knees as they broke apart.
Out of the corner of his eye Teodor could see the first in a long line of people exiting the door of the Castel Sant’Angelo. He hurriedly wiped his face with the back of his hand and straightened his mask. The stranger in front of him turned a bored expression to the crowd, then looked back to Teodor, not bothering to fix his disheveled appearance. He reached out to smooth Teodor’s shirt, but Teodor twisted out of reach.
“Stop,” Teodor hissed. The man jerked and rocked back on his heels. His eyes burned into Teodor’s, aroused and stubborn. He reached out to Teodor again, and this time Teodor slapped his hand.
Instantly Teodor regretted his action. The man knotted the offended hand into a fist, and for a moment Teodor tensed, anticipating a blow. They stared at each other for a moment, one angered and one apologetic. Teodor glanced nervously to the crowd, noting how the revelers were getting closer.
The stranger followed Teodor’s gaze, hands dropping to his sides. He gave Teodor one last look before turning his back to him and walking forward into the crowd. Teodor watched, and when he could no longer distinguish one mask from the next he muttered a string of curses under his breath, frustrated and ashamed. A head or two turned towards him.
Before he could make a further scene, Teodor turned and fled in the direction of the barracks.
† † †
NOTICE: Fanart now exists for this story! Please click here to see SilvesterVitale's beautiful depiction of the masquerade scene.
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