Work Text:
Ezio Auditore stood at the margins of a crowd that had gathered in Galata, his hood drawn low over his face, his sharp dark eyes scanning the room. His posture was relaxed, but his hands rested lightly on his hips, touching the weapons on his belt — one could never be too careful.
It was mainly a gathering for the city’s elite: merchants, and artists, all drawn by the promise of music, wine, and the mesmerizing dance of Zahra, the most celebrated çengi in Constantinople.
Beside him, Yusuf Tazim leaned casually against a marble column, his arms crossed, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his chest, covered by his nude-toned and colorful vest. His demeanor was calm tonight, his gaze distant, as if his thoughts were elsewhere. He smiled, with the same wonder and child would when observing something mesmerizing.
“This is not the kind of infiltration I expected,” Ezio said, his voice low, a faint smile showing on his lips as he called the attention of the assassin. “I thought we’d be scaling walls, not blending in with nobles.”
Yusuf chuckled, but his eyes never left the center of the room, where Zahra had just started her dance. “Sometimes, the best way to hide is in plain sight, mentore. Besides, would you deny me the chance to see her dance?”
Ezio followed Yusuf’s gaze. Zahra moved with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly, her body flowing like water to the rhythm of the ney and darbuka. Her adorned long, dark wavy hair danced with her over her shoulders, catching the light as she spun, her embroidered silks swirling around her toned body like a living Botticelli painting. “She is beauty incarnate, e vero.”
No wonder Yusuf was mesmerized.
The crowd itself was entranced, their faces filled with admiration, but Yusuf’s expression was different— there was a softness in his eyes, a vulnerability that Ezio had never seen in the brash, confident assassin.
“You care for her,” Ezio observed, his tone gentle but testing the conversation.
Yusuf’s fingers stilled, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then he sighed, heavy with unspoken feelings. “I never imagined I could feel this way... Not after all these years, not after everything we’ve seen and done.”
Ezio nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “The life of an assassin is a lonely one, Yusuf. We walk in shadows, and our hands are stained with blood,” he admired Zahra’s playfulness mid-dance, her cheeky smiles and bright blue eyes. “But that does not mean we must be alone; even the darkest paths need a light to guide us home.”
Yusuf turned to him, curious. “And you? Have you found such a light?”
Ezio’s smile was wishful but sad, marked with the many memories of lost moments. “I have had my moments; but my path has been long, and the road ahead is uncertain. Still, I have learned this,” he looked at the man, “love is not a weakness. It is a strength, a reminder of what we fight for.”
Yusuf looked back at Zahra, his expression softening once more. She had paused in her dance, her eyes scanning the crowd as if searching for someone, but part of her performance included make everyone feel seen. For a brief moment, their gazes met, and Yusuf held his breath. He straightened, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his scimitar, as if to steady himself.
“She doesn’t know,” he murmured. “I’ve never told her.”
Ezio placed a hand on the assassin’s shoulder, his grip firm but reassuring. “Then perhaps it is time you did. The world is full of dangers, but it is also full of beauty. Do not let fear keep you from it.”
Yusuf exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing under Ezio’s touch. “You speak wisely, mentore. But tonight is not the night. Come, we have work to do.”
Ezio nodded, releasing him. “Lead the way, my friend.”
As they turned to leave, Yusuf cast one last glance at his favorite performer.
She was spinning again, holding her tambourine as she encouraged the crowd to sing along. Zahra’s entertained laughter echoed like music, her presence a source of life and celebration in the crowded hall.
For a moment, Yusuf allowed himself to imagine a different life, one where he could stand by her side without the weight of the Creed upon his shoulders. Or even it would involve her, living in the shadows with him, becoming another member of the Brotherhood he swore to develop and protect.
Then he shook his head, and followed with Ezio into the shadows.