Stay Your Hand (Assassin!Reader x Noble!Austria)

That morning, Roderich Edelstein had the strangest feeling he was being watched.

It was nothing tangible he could really outright claim was the source of his ill-at-ease feeling, that nagging sensation rattling in the back of his head that something was just a little off about that morning. He attended to his affairs as usual, moving about his estate in a brisk, efficient manner that belied his inward sense of unease. He reasoned with himself that perhaps he was over-tired. Yes, that had to be it- he had simply been working too hard recently. The expansion of his estate was proving to be quite time-consuming and stressful. Eventually, satisfied that he had pinpointed the reason for feeling like there was an eye on him wherever he went, unblinking, he continued on with his daily business, as usual.

Of course, if he knew that there really was someone watching, perhaps he would not have been so dismissive of his gut instinct.

It wasn't easy for you to balance on the rain-slicked roof of Edelstein's estate, but like many things, it was possible with both practice and trial-and-error. Thanks to there being a handy courtyard that sat in the center of the manor, you were able to follow Edelstein's progress from room to room with relative ease. You watched him unblinkingly as Edelstein passed the extravagant hallways pf his home, discussing something with a tall, well-build blonde. Ludwig Beilschmidt- your biggest threat by far. While Edelstein is with him, he is safe. You know that if something was amiss with his master, he would not stop hunting down the person who had caused him harm. You could only imagine what the no-nonsense German man would do if Edelstein happened to be shot dead right before his very eyes.

You tightened your grip on the rifle in your hands, letting out a slow, calming breath between your dry lips. You squeezed the metal until you could feel it making grooves on your fingers.

Roderich was waving his hands, obviously chastising Ludwig for some minor misdemeanor. You couldn't take your eyes off him- there was something about him, the way he stood and moved that drew in the eye automatically. With his chocolate brown hair, glasses and lavender eyes that seem to perfectly match the plush carpeting ubiquitous in the estate, he's undeniably handsome. No doubt he has plenty of noblewomen still swooning after him, even with his obvious affections for his Hungarian 'friend'. You knew that with Edelstein's vast wealth, noble lineage and important connections, he assumed that he was invincible.

Did you resent him, a man that you had never even spoken to?

Yes.

Oh, yes.

Here you were, on Edelstein's rooftop, with a gun pointing at his head. Your employer offered you a handsome sum of money for this job- not in the least because of the uproar it would cause. You had almost turned it down- not because of pride or morals (those things tend not to last long when you're a woman of your desperate situation, not that you tend to go around advertising your true gender), but because you almost wanted to do it.

Having personal feelings on the job is not professional. Business is business, isn't how the saying goes? Most of your marks (though there haven't been terribly many), you had nothing especially personal against them, but for one reason or another, people were willing to pay to have them killed. You, burying your head in the sand, liked to assume that you'd have to be fairly desperate to hire a hit man. Killers were for people who deserve it, weren't they? It's easy for you to convince yourself that Roderich Edelstein had this coming to him- if not from your employer, than someone else. You knew that with your stringy hair, dirty clothes and humble origins, the likes of you would not be allowed within a foot of this grand mansion. And here was Edelstein, still wanting more from the starved lands.

Yet you were itching to get this over with. You're shaking like this is your first time on the job, adrenalin shooting through your body, making you jittery and skittish. Though you have been handling firearms since you were a child, mostly to scare away predators from your home, the gun in your hands suddenly felt like an unknown object in your hands, your palms slick with sweat. If you weren't a professional, you'd be terrified of tumbling off the roof and breaking your neck.

Suddenly, a blur of movement caught your eye and you jerked your head up. Ludwig left the room, Edelstein watching him with an expression of exasperation and something else, something that you couldn't quite identity, not from this distance. Despite the fact the noble's face was impassive; his unusually-coloured eyes spoke volumes. You lifted the rifle; palms sweating so much you're amazed you can even grip your damn gun properly. Edelstein strode into the next room, but you were still perfectly able to see him, though you were forced to shuffle a little closer to the edge of the roof, swearing under your breath.

In the next room, there sat a grand piano that had been polished with obvious tender care- the thing seemed to glow in the sunlight pouring into the window, motes of dust spiraling lazily in its rays. Edelstein crossed the room and sat down, facing the piano, posture perfect. You watched him, curiously. Your thighs were starting to cramp, so you huffed and re-arranged yourself so you were lying on your belly, holding the rifle between two slightly-shaking hands. You'd heard whispers of Edelstein's musical prowess, but naturally, had never heard him play before. Up until now, you weren't even sure what instrument it was he was supposedly such a prodigy at. (More than one, it seemed- you could just make out the curve of a cello-case lying in the corner of the room.)

Roderich leant forwards, hands poised over the piano.

Your index finger curled around the trigger.

Roderich inhaled, and began to play.

You stopped.

From the open window, music suddenly flooded the courtyard, the sound filling the air in a way that seemed to engulf you, like the ocean crashing against the shoreline. The music took you away from the courtyard; the estate- took you away from everything. You suddenly forgot all about the way your days these days reeked of gunpowder and blood. The sonorous melody that seemed to enrapture all that heard its yearning call reminded you of water, like a waterfall unfrozen from time, bringing life back to a dry, barren land. You were sure that this was the kind of music that could persuade flowers to bloom, that could make the very stars explode.

You looked at Edelstein- no, Roderich's- face.

He was transformed. Gone was the stuffy, prim noble that you saw as the antithesis of yourself, an object worthy of envy and derision for being born with all the things that the likes of you could merely dream of. There was something in his face, an ecstasy in the beauty he was creating that morphed him into something beyond that of a mere man. It seemed melodramatic to say, but in the privacy of your own head, you could allow yourself to ponder if perhaps he was divinely gifted, a herald of phonic magic. You felt as though the music had thawed something inside you, melting the icy fortress that had built up around your heart, your battered heart that cried out in despair when you first lodged a bullet into a man's heart.

Roderich reminded you of all the things you had forgotten.

You lowered your rifle to the tiled roof, setting it down and exhaling. You pushed yourself back on your haunches, content to merely crouch there and listen. Professionalism had been thoroughly eradicated under the light of this spell that the unknowing noble had unwittingly cast upon you. No longer could you pretend, withdraw into denials that you were nothing more than an unfeeling creature, forced into the task of snuffing out those your employers deemed a threat.

No more.

A man who was capable of provoking feelings in you that you had long ago thought yourself lost to will not die under your watch. You knew that this decision will forever alter you- you cannot go back to your old world, after having spared the man you were supposed to eliminate. You also knew that your employer would not stop at one capricious hired gun- much like a hive, if assassin is killed or leaves, another would take their place, someone who was truly heartless. You knew what you had to do now, though you knew that it would forever destroy your carefully-built reputation. You supposed your only saving grace was that you client was unaware you were actually female- this would be the last time you would be able to hide underneath your layers and layers of male disguise.

Slinging your rifle over your back, you began to make your descend from the rooftops and noted with wry amusement that your hands were still shaking, but now for an entirely different reason. You had to inform Roderich of those who wanted him dead- regardless of what he chose to do with the information; you would pass on the burden of the knowledge that burned in your chest.

Your stomach squirmed at the thought of how to broach the subject- what if he ordered your arrest and execution? The fact that you were there and armed was enough to prove what you had been sent for, but your new motivations would be harder to prove. Your chewed your chapped lip in thought, thinking, knowing you had a limited window of time before you had to be on the move. If you were spotted before you came up with a solution, your chances of getting away are low. Especially if Ludwig got involved.

~

A bang resounded, like a firework. The noise made the teacup on the way to Roderich’s lips halt in its progress. A second later, it was discarded, smashing on the richly-carpeted floor in an explosion of fine china as the aristocrat bolted for the doors, though it took him far longer to get there than the diligent German.

“Vhat vas that? Vhat’s going on?” Roderich asked the blonde, panting. He adjusted his glasses as he gulped in mouthfuls of air.

Glass littered the carpets of the entrance hall, jagged shards glittering in the afternoon life. Roderich glanced at them, reminded, strangely, of teeth. Ludwig was standing with his back to Roderich, his fist still wrapped around the door handle, looking down at something.

“You might vant to take a look at zis,” the deep voice of the blonde said, before Ludwig shifted to the side.

Roderich stepped forward, at first uncomprehending. Then his gaze drifted downwards and a gasp worked its way up his throat.

A rifle sat, dormant menace radiating from it in a similar manner to a recumbent snake. Upon closer inspection, Roderich could see smudged fingerprints running along the polished wood.

“Vhat…” Roderich began, the question still half-formed when it left his mouth. “Vhat is zis?”

Ludwig glanced at the window that had a large chunk of glass missing. Nobody had been in the front entrance when the shot was heard- his mind had already disregarded the possibility of this merely being an accident. Still, nobody had been hurt, which he supposed was the important thing.

“It looks like someone has given us a varning,” Ludwig answered, glass crunching beneath his thick black boots. He was about to speak again when he heard footsteps hurrying down the stairs.

“What’s going on?” Elizabeta asked, her hair looking wilder than usual, obvious having just dashed down the corridor in a hurry. “Is someone hurt?”

“Nein, everyone seems to be fine. For ze moment,” Ludwig replied, shaking his head, mind still working to figure out who could have been behind this.

“Perhaps that woman got hurt…” Elizabeta fretted.

“Voman?” Roderich asked, glancing behind him at her, confusion marring his features. “Vhen did you see a voman?”

“I was upstairs in the attic and I saw a woman walking out through the gates. I thought it was odd because she wasn’t wearing a uniform or a dress…”

“…Ze assassin…” Ludwig growled beneath his breath, realisation dawning on him, like a light being switched on in his head.

He turned to Elizabeta and began speaking rapidly, his mind already working on whom might have sent a hired gun and how they should proceed from there, plans and preparations barked out as the household jumped to attention. His voice moving seamlessly from uncertainty into commands as his take-charge personality took over.

Roderich, however, stayed by the doorway of his house, slowly bending to pick up the gun. He looked it over in his hands, the feel of the object strange in his hands. He was used to caressing the keys of a piano or tuning a violin. The fact this had possibly been issued with the intent to kill him left him feeling as cold as if he had had a bucket of icy water thrown over him. Yet despite that, he stared out at the expansive path that lead down to his estate, the image of a woman lingering in his mind. For whatever reason, you had rebelled. You had left him with his life- yet the only clue as to your identity was in his hand, a weapon that was an alien thing in the hands of Roderich Edelstein.

And despite it all, a smile lingered on his face as he retreated back inside.

He hoped he could thank you, someday.