AN: Remember my assassin family headcanon from "What We Lose?" well, I also had another similar thought, the gist of which is: "what if Salai was not Leonardo's lover, but Ezio's child?" I made a prompt to that effect on the AC Kink meme a loooong time ago, and when it was never answered I took it upon myself to write it.
What follows will be a series of vignettes centering around the lives of Gian Giacomo Caprotti da Oreno and Mariam La'Ahad, biological children of Ezio and Altair, respectively. Dubiously canon compliant until about ACII; after that, anything goes. Enjoy!
Milan, Italy, 1490 CE
One sunny day under a table owned by Leonardo Da Vinci, a ten-year-old boy with curly golden hair hugs his legs and resolves to be angry at the world.
"Gian! Gian, Dios dame paciencia, where is that little devil?"
From behind the table cloth, Gian watches the eccentric inventor stumble down the staircase, one hand haphazardly holding his ridiculous hat to his head he swivels frantically, surveying the room. His eyes rest in Gian's direction, and the little boy scowls, curling even more into himself as Leonardo comes towards him.
The table cloth rises, and reproachful blue eyes peered underneath the table. "Gian, we have spoken about this," Leonardo says in what the boy supposes the other thought was a stern tone of voice. "Give it back."
"Give what back?" Gian shot back challengingly. "I don't know what you are talking about. You are so quick to blame me."
"I am speaking of the Turkish leather I mean to have made into boots. And I would not be so quick to blame you, Gian, but you have stolen my belongings before, as well as have your parent's blood flowing through your veins–"
"Are you calling my mother a thief—"
"—And my leather peeking out from underneath your shirt, where else should the blame lie?"
Gian glares at him balefully, but Leonardo's outstretched hand does not waver. Recognizing the futility of prolonging the fight, he rolls his eyes and pulls the piece of leather out of his shirt, throwing it into Leonardo's chest.
"Oof! Thank you." Leonardo places the leather on the table as Gian comes out from underneath it to sit on a stool, folding his arms and letting his scowl deepen. If Leonardo notices, he does not comment upon it. "I was speaking of your father. His hands can be sticky… though I doubt he would encourage your behavior."
"I do not care what my father thinks," Gian huffs. "And you have perfectly fine boots. Candy is better than boots."
"Yes, I rather do like my boots as of now," Leonardo shrugs. "But you do not have a pair. You would look good in them, I think."
"Candy is better than boots," Gian repeated stubbornly, though his face tinges a light pink despite himself. He is still not used to this man's generosity, this man who still insists on him staying no matter how much Gian tries to make his life hell. Gian wonders how much his father pays him.
Unwary of his thoughts, Leonardo smiles at him, harried but fond. Gian turns away, uncomfortable. No one smiled that warmly at him. No, no one was allowed to smile like that at him, except his mother, he decides resolutely.
"We will buy candy then, after we bring the leather to the cobbler," Leonardo coaxes. "Alright?"
Before Gian could answer, one of Leonardo's assistants comes into the workshop. "Messer Leonardo?"
"Ah, yes!" Leonardo brightens and turns to his assistant, away from Gian. He has the attention span of a puppy, Gian thinks uncharitably. While he is occupied, Gian snatches the leather back and runs out into the streets. Later, Leonardo will turn his sugar-sticky fingers over in his hands and sigh, and Gian will not feel guilty.
Not in the slightest.