So, I was kind of in the mood for a new love story, and I wanted to try a genre that I've never done ... I've never written a story based on a video game, so let's see how this goes. I have a very gradual style, and I often move a little too slowly. Hopefully I don't get too into that habit for this story ... anyway enough rambling. I hope you enjoy. Reviews are always welcome. I'm not THAT knowledgeable about the game, I have only ever watched it being played (though I have watched quite a bit) so if there are any SERIOUS errors, please let me know. I try to stay relatively close to canon. ANY kind of criticism is welcome. If you like it, please tell me. If you hate it, DEFINITELY tell me.

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It was early morning in Monteriggioni. The few owners of the small shops in the piazza were just getting to their stores, unlocking the big wooden doors and opening them wide to greet the day and potential customers. Soon, within a few hours, the streets would be filled with shouting men selling their wares, women haggling for lower prices, and children picking what they could from the pockets of unsuspecting shoppers.

But for now, it was quiet, and that was just the way Ambra Conti liked it. She was walking very slowly towards the market, knowing that if she got there too soon, she would be waiting for the vendors to be ready to serve her. So she took her time.

Ambra had been born and raised in Monteriggioni, and she had no desire to ever live anywhere else, as she thought it most beautiful. Everything about her small hometown, from the way her shoes clicked against the stones that paved the streets, to the buildings that loomed powerfully over her, blocking the early morning Tuscan sun from her eyes, put a large smile on her face.

"Buongiorno! Ambra!" Signor Monticello waved at her as he saw her approaching the market. He was the man from whom she always bought her fruit. She always visited him first, too, because he was an early riser like she was.

"What have you for me today, Signore?" She questioned as she leaned over and inspected grapes, olives, apples, and something orange she had never seen before. "Che cosa-" but before she could get her question out, the fruit man answered her question.

"It's called a tangerine," he told her. "They come from Morocco. Delicious. Try one!" He had already had one peeled, and gave a piece to Ambra to sample. Being the lover of food that she was, Ambra eagerly put the fruit in her mouth, surprised by the tangy sweetness.

"Mmmm!" She exclaimed. "I'll take a few! Mamma will love this."

"Good! You know, the skins make great seasoning if you grind them up!" he stated as Ambra started feeling the tangerines and placing them in her bag. She also selected some grapes and apples, paid the man, and went on her way.

A light wind had picked up and started blowing tentatively between the buildings, whipping Ambra's honey blonde hair, for which she was named, around her face. The people of Monteriggioni were known for being a little fairer than the rest of their Tuscan countrymen, and Ambra was no exception.

Being that it was summer, her skin was the color of very milky coffee, and her freckles were quite abundant. Long, thick eyelashes, a little lighter than her hair, rimmed her dark green eyes, which were now squinting as the sun broke through some of the houses. At sixteen she was tall for her age, only standing a few inches below many of the men in the town. She hoped that she would stop growing, as girls were supposed to be small and dainty.

Ambra wiped her hair from her face and decided it was time to get down to business. She had bought her fruit, which was something of an indulgence, on which she had to spend her own money when her mother didn't need it. Now she removed a list from the cloth bag she was carrying. Her mother needed two onions, some garlic, semolina, flour, and a few spices. Pasta for dinner, then.

Ambra was thinking that it was odd for her mother to be using onions for her sauce when she looked up and saw someone she had never seen in Monteriggioni before. He was tall, much taller than she was, which wasn't something that she was used to.

He was looking at vegetables; onions, to be precise. She wanted to go over and introduce herself, there weren't very many handsome boys her age in town, and the ones that were attractive had no interest in her, unfortunately. Her father was known to be a little … unreasonable.

"Signor Marchi," she asked of the fish salesman. "Who is that?" She wasn't sure if he would know, but she had to ask someone.

"Oh, him!" Ambra smiled, pleased that he knew. "That's Mario Auditore's nephew. From Firenze. He arrived a few days ago with his mother and sister. You didn't hear this from me, but they had some trouble back home. His father and two brothers were killed-" Ambra gasped and Signor Marchi silenced her.

"How do you know this, Signore?" she asked.

"Can't tell you that," he answered. "Now, if you're not buying any fish, get out of here!" and he pushed Ambra in the direction of the stranger.

Well, she needed some onions as well. Slowly, she approached the young man and stood next to him, pretending that she was very interested in the tomatoes in front of her. Being that she was considered rather pretty, Ambra expected him to at least look at her, but he didn't even seem to notice that she was there.

"Is your mamma making pasta and white sauce tonight as well?" she asked as the started feeling the onions, wanting to only select the best. Ambra was a bit of perfectionist.

"No," he answered flatly without looking up. Taken aback, Ambra flinched. She wasn't used to being addressed in such a way.

"Oh …" she said slowly. "Well, what are the onions for?"

"Do you plan on making it for me?" he asked.

"I-"

"No," he answered for her. "I don't think that you are." Finally he looked at her, and Ambra flinched once more. His eyes were so dark that they looked like they were black, and they were full of something that Ambra couldn't identify exactly. But it wasn't pleasant. "What do you want?"

"I … I just wanted to say hello. Introduce myself. My name is Ambra. Ambra Conti." She held out her hand, but the boy ignored it. Instead he just smirked at her.

"Ambra," he retorted. "I can see why." He brushed past her without picking up any tomatoes. "Good bye." Ambra was left standing there, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. She had never been treated so rudely in her entire life. Still flustered, she continued squeezing, accidentally squeezing one too hard so that the juice exploded all over her fingers, causing her eyes to tear.

"Merda!" she cursed silently as she started wiping the juice from her fingers, using her mouth to clean the tips, figuring she might as well sample the wares.

"Oooh, I can think of a few things I would like for you to put in your mouth!" Ambra sighed but did not turn around. She knew exactly who it was. Francesco De Luca. He was a little older than she was, and one of the few boys around who did not fear what her father would do to him, for his own father was quite powerful in Monteriggioni. "Come, Ambra, don't be so shy."

Ambra decided it was best to hurry up, so she picked up a few cloves of garlic and moved on to the herbs, wishing that her mother would just grow her own instead of buying them every time she needed them. Perhaps she would start her own garden to avoid situations like this.

Francesco had finally reached her, and she could feel him looming above. He, too, was tall, and quite handsome, with light brown hair and eyes almost the same color as Ambra's hair. It was too bad that his personality was absolutely repulsive.

"Leaving so soon?"

"Go away, Francesco," Ambra suggested. He laughed, and took her bag from her.

"What's for dinner tonight, eh?" He asked. "Maybe I'll come over, sample your cooking. I wouldn't marry someone without knowing that she was a good cook, first."

"I wouldn't marry someone I despised, either," Ambra answered.

"Does your father know you speak this way?" Francesco demanded of her as Ambra handed over the money to pay for her food. Naturally, the vendor would not stick up for her. No one ever stood up to Francesco. He could do whatever he wanted in Monteriggioni and no one would try to stop him.

"What way, Francesco?" she asked.

"So disrespectfully," he answered as he grabbed her by the arm. "So, just invite me over for dinner tonight, and I will count us even, yes?"

"You're not coming to my house, Francesco," Ambra told him. "Not tonight, at least."

"Why? Do you have another guest?"

"I do not have to explain to you why, Francesco," Ambra stated. "Now, please let go of me."

"Not until I get an invitation, Miss Conti," Francesco corrected her. "I'm sure that your mother would be very pleased to see me at her dinner table." This was undoubtedly true. Maria Conti had four daughters, and Ambra was the second. The one thing that occupied her thoughts was getting her daughters respectably married, and Francesco De Luca was definitely a good candidate for the position of Ambra's husband, at least in her mother's eyes. He had good parents, nice sisters, and money.

That was what mattered to her mother. Her father, though, wasn't so ready to get rid of her. In fact, he preferred that all of his daughters stayed virgins for the rest of their lives.

"Perhaps you should call on my father and ask him like a proper gentleman would," Ambra suggested. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few other things to do today and I have to bring these home to my mother so she can start the sauce."

"I will call on your father," said Francesco. "Or maybe your mother. I shall accompany you home. Allow me to carry these for you, Signorina." Without waiting for her to hand it over, he took her bag and took her arm, looping it in his as they walked. "You know, Ambra, you really should not fight against me so hard. As he said this, Ambra removed her arm and grabbed her bag.

"Please leave me alone, Francesco," she asked, in a voice that sounded like she knew that her request would not even be acknowledged.

"Once I'm invited to dinner, I will leave you alone until it is time to eat," Francesco assured her as he pulled Ambra down her street, and when they reached her home, he knocked on the green door. A few seconds later, the door was pulled open, and Ambra's mother, Anna, was standing on the other side of the threshold. She was a woman somewhere in her mid forties, young for a mother of four.

"Francesco De Luca!" she exclaimed, her wide smile splitting her friendly face almost in half. Her eyes, the same color of Ambra's, smiled as well as her mouth as she tried to usher Francesco into the house, but he declined.

"No, Signora Conti, I just wanted to see Ambra home safely, and she told me that I should ask if I was welcome in your home for dinner tonight." Ambra sighed with frustration; that was definitely twisting the meaning of her words.

"Welcome?! At my home! Always, Francesco! Always!"

"Dinner is at six," I told him as I walked into the house.

"Ignore my daughter," said Anna, "he father spoils her rotten and she does not know how to be polite. We'll be happy to have you, Francesco. And dinner is at five." Francesco smiled, waved and walked away, a spring in his step. He always got exactly what he wanted.

)0(

"Ambra, wipe that frown off your face right now. Francesco De Luca is coming to dinner, and I'll tell you that he is not doing it in order to court me," Anna Conti demanded of her daughter as she crushed the oregano leaves that would be used to season her sauce.

"Francesco De Luca-" began Ambra, but her mother cut her off with a sharp rap on the head with her wooden spoon.

"You will be nice to that boy, Ambra," she ordered. "And you'll put on something nice for when he comes over."

"Si, Mama," Ambra said, resigned. That was when there was a knock on the door. It was too early for dinner, so Ambra knew it couldn't have been Francesco, but this fact did not register with her mother.

"I'll get it, just to make sure that you don't scare him away," Anna stated. She went to the door and opened it, and was very surprised to see a boy that she didn't know. He was very tall and very dark, which implied that he wasn't from Monteriggioni. "Yes?"

"Is Ambra here?" he asked. "My name is Ezio Auditore."

"Are you related to Mario?"

"Yes, he is my uncle," Ezio answered. "Is Ambra here?"

"Yes, she is," she answered. "She's helping me in the kitchen. What do you want from her?"

"I was rude to her this morning, and I just wanted to apologize for my behavior in the market. Could you tell her that I am here to speak with her? I will wait out here." Anna gave him a strange look and told him to wait while she went and retrieved her daughter.

"Ambra," she began, "there is a boy named Ezio at the door for you."

"I don't know anyone named Ezio, Mamma," Ambra answered as she continued crushing oregano leaves and sprinkling them into the sauce.

"He knows you," Anna told her. "He says that he is Mario Auditore's nephew." Now that rang a bell. Ambra dropped the pestle she was using, wiped her hands on her apron, and then started towards the door. However, she stopped quickly, took of the apron, and threw it at her mother. As she walked towards the front door, she straightened the skirt of the green dress she was wearing, and was just finishing up when she saw him.

"Buon pomeriggio," she greeted coolly, remembering how she had been treated that morning.

"Buon pomeriggio," he echoed. "Ambra."

"Can I help you?"

"Not really," Ezio answered, "but I was feeling badly about how … abrupt I was this morning. Please accept my apology."

"That's it?" Ambra asked.

"Is there anything else that you think I should say?" he inquired.

"I am just shocked," Ambra responded. "You were just feeling badly?"

"I have a sister," he explained. "If a man ever acted that way towards her, I would cut his tongue out and make him eat it. I decided that I couldn't live by a double standard. My uncle told me where you live. I hope that you don't' mind my coming here."

"Of course not," she assured him, allowing a smile to pull up the corners of her mouth. "I appreciate your coming, Ezio."

"Think nothing of it, Signorina," Ezio said. "ArrivederLa." Ezio turned on his heel and stalked away. Ambra let him go for a few steps, but then she called his name. He turned and looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Would you like to come for dinner? Mamma is making pasta. I'm helping with the sauce." She flashed him the brightest smile she could manage, using her whole face to express how much she wanted him to come to dinner. If Francesco was going to be there, she needed something that was going to take her mind off of it.

"When is dinner?" he asked, and it took all of Ambra's strength to keep herself from jumping up and down with joy, and he hadn't even said that he was going to come, yet.

"Five," she answered.

"I will be there," Ezio told her. "Until then." He turned around again and started walking away, leaving Ambra with a large smile plastered across her face. She floated inside on a cloud, and when she alighted in the kitchen, her mother was looking at her strangely.

"What just happened out there?" she asked.

"Ezio is coming to dinner," Ambra stated.

"CHE?!" her mother demanded.

"Ezio is coming to dinner," she repeated. "There is plenty of food and plenty of room, so I do not know why you are looking at me like that. However, if you would like for me to rescind the invitation, I suppose I can go to Signor Auditore's house and tell him that-"

"No, you will not do that. That would be extremely rude." Her mother crossed the kitchen with pieces of shredded garlic and dropped them into the sauce. "I just wish that you would ask me about these things, Ambra, before you just went and did them. I wish I could threaten you with telling your father, but I know that wouldn't work."

"Not a bit," Ambra agreed as she kissed her mother on the cheek.

"This dinner is going to be interesting," her mother remarked. She wasn't wrong.