So, yeah... first fanfic ever. But I'm not going to ask you to be nice. I've been writing stories for a while, just not fanfics so if you catch something, tell me and I'll fix it. Also, trying to be as historically accurate as possible so catch me on that too, if you can. Lastly, what is the point of putting up a disclaimer? No one from the makers of AC is going to be thinking that any of us are making money off of this. So why bother?

Enough rambling, please enjoy!

"Now, who does she remind you of?" Rosa asked Ezio after watching their daughter Cristina finally master the double-grab jump. She had been working on it for the last week and a half with a few of the other trainees. Rosa smiled inwardly as Ezio's eyes locked onto his daughter, as if analyzing her for the answer to his wife's question.

"You?" it was a shot in the dark.

A short peal of laughter told him that that wasn't the answer she had been thinking of. "No, you!" she emphasized her answer with a light shove to her husband.

Still watching Cristina, Ezio smiled. Heh, he could see where Rosa had seen him in her, but she was wrong. Cristina was becoming every bit of an assassin that her father was, but she was missing something. She didn't have that same drive for blood that Ezio had possessed in his early days. She didn't have that dark thrust for revenge that had plagued him into his middle years and she lacked the sadness that would sometimes overcome him when he was remembering those years of lost youth. No, she was not like him, and he was proud to see this. After reaching the top of the building, she turned to see her parents watching, and she smiled.

Roma was in a state of religious crises due to Templar involvement in the Vatican. Just a mere three years ago Roma was bankrupt thanks to the luscious antics of Pope Leo X and that same year there was religious unrest as a man named Luther, some priest from Saxony and unassociated to the Assassin's, led a revolt against the Catholic church itself! By Machiavelli's suggestion, the Assasin's did not take a side but sufficed with keeping innocents out of the warfare. As the philosopher had put it; it was not their fight, theirs was with the Templars alone. While the revolution had exposed many Templars, and the Assassin's did take advantage of their weak position, Ezio had agreed with Niccolo and kept the Brotherhood out of the major conflicts.

However, despite all of this madness, Cristina's smile broke through everything. She was the one thing that brought Ezio back from the darkness that would sometimes consume him. At times, not even Rosa, his strong-hearted wife, could bring him into sunshine until Cristina appeared. She was precious, she was strong and she was a symbol of the future, as children tend to be.

Though, as Rosa would continually remind him, she wasn't a child any longer. It was the year 1520 and Cristina, Ezio's pride and joy, was turning 17 in April, thus being the perfect age for men to begin taking notice.

"Stefano! I'm glad I ran into you. If papa comes looking, tell him I went to, um… run some earrings! And I'll be back soon; can you do that for me, right mi amici?" Cristina batted her amber eyes at the older assassin trainee.

Stefano looked at the girl and gave what could have been interpreted as a defeated sigh. "Cristina, you know Ezio doesn't like it when you do that. Why can't you just tell him where you're going so that the rest of us don't have to waste our time looking for you later? I have things to do today, I don't have time for this."

"Please? Everyone is setting up for Easter tomorrow and I just want to see all of the decorations go up. I'm not going to go far," she pleaded. Ever since her birthday last week her father had been increasingly protective of her. It was almost as if her was afraid she would be taken away now that she was 17, it made no sense!

After weighing the consequences for another few seconds, Cristina added that she would be willing to take Stefano's mail collection duty. Rolling his eyes, he finally agreed to her terms and the girl gave him a quick hug before disappearing out the door that led to the Tiber Island streets. I am going to regret this, Stefano thought as he watched her blue civilian dress flick out of site.

Finally out on her own, Cristina quickly made her way to a market near Capitoline Hill where she was certain preparation for Easter festivities would be in full swing. Walking through the crowded streets of Roma, she honestly felt like a civilian. While training with the Assassin's, it was sometimes easy to forget what it felt like to be a regular person walking the streets without worrying about a target spotting you. Her father, Ezio, used to take her on walks through the city, both dressed as civilians. He said that it was important that they never forgot whom it was that they were fighting for. It was the people, and one had to know the people before one could fight for them, or with them.

Taking a moment at a flower stall, Cristina closed her eyes and took in the smell of the roses. There was a particular bunch of yellow roses that caught her eye and had her digging in her purse for some spare centesimi. Just as she pulled the small copper coins into her hand, another hand held a bright yellow rose in front of her.

Looking up to see whom the offering hand belonged to, she was met with a pair of sparkling gray eyes and a handsome face. "Ciao, mi belladonna," the man said with a charming smile.

"Ah, and who might you be?" she asked, delicately accepting the flower. Her father may be worried about her turning of age, but she had certainly learned how to deal with suitors in the past. Flirting was like a strategy game for Cristina, and she always loved a good challenge.

"Simply a poor soul who thought that, perhaps, a beautiful spirit like your self might offer him some countenance," he said with a clever flourish and a slight bow. His eyes stayed locked onto hers, however. A powerful move in the game, but the flourish and corny line was a bit much for her. She had wanted to spend the day on her own, and this man hadn't impressed thus far. A waste of time? most likely.

"Ah, signore, I'm afraid your poor soul will be doomed to continue searching for such a spirit; you will not find one here," she answered with a devilish smile of her own. She placed the flower in her dark hair and left the man at the booth.

He watched her go for a moment. He had hoped that such an entrance wouldn't work on her. He had observed her in this market on a number of other occasions, and her beauty had perplexed him. Now, his gray eyes followed her through the crowd and he wondered about her. 'The girl with the golden eyes' was how he had referred to her to his friends. There was a mystery about her that he wanted to unravel, and he did love a challenge.

Cristina continued her walk through the congested streets. Stopping by a fountain to wash her hands from a pastry, she felt a presence next to her. Straightening up, she turned to find the same gray eyes from earlier meeting her own once again. "Hm, a poor soul with nowhere better to be?" she inquired, though her playful tone from before wasn't quite there this time. She had wanted to be alone today.

"What is your name signorina?" he asked without missing a beat. She was, admittedly, somewhat taken aback but this simple request after such a lavish introduction earlier. However, she recovered quickly enough.

"That is none of your concern, signore," she tried to turn and leave him once again but he managed to stay in front of her, despite the crowded piazza. His eyes continued to watch her face and, however much she wished he'd leave her alone, she noticed that there was a strange curiosity that reflected in his crystalline eyes.

"I have seen you in this area before, quite a few times actually. But I could never find out who you were from anyone here; that is strange, no?" he asked, trying to keep her attention. He wasn't going to lose this game.

"Don't you think it rude to ask around about a lady you have no connection to? Seems like quite the invasion of privacy," she snapped back, though lightly. He had become somewhat intriguing. Why was he so interested in her?

"Not at all, most men don't find any courage to so much as even dare to catch a woman's eye before at least discovering her name first," he said, rather cleverly. He was right, of course, Cristina's father had explained that to her himself a few months prior to her birthday.

She watched him, searching for a comeback in the eyes that refused to move from hers, by no lack of trying on her part. "And do you know my name, signore?"

"I don't, else I wouldn't have asked you," a smile graced his lips, he was pulling ahead.

"Then we are even, for I don't know yours either. Now if you'll excuse me– "

"Lucio Farnese."

"A Farnese?" now she was interested. But if a Farnese was interested in her, then there had to be a reason. She shouldn't give him any information, and she should also report this to the Brotherhood, and she would have to get out of this conversation soon, but without raising any suspicions. "What is a Farnese doing below the hill?" she asked in a more flirting manner. She would play the game for now, but just until she found an opening.

Lucio watched her reaction with interest. Of course she would be surprised, everyone knew of the Farnese family. Though, her demeanor changed, was she interested now that she knew he had money? If this were the case, he would be losing interest rather quickly. So much for the mystery… "Alas, I fell, Madonna. But you must be fair, a name for a name."

Now it was her turn to watch him. She would not give her name. "Alas, fallen Farnese, I have no name to give you."

So she was different! Lucio jogged a bit to catch up to the girl, for she had managed to get by him and began walking again. "Signorina, you wound me! All I ask is a name, nothing more lavish than that!"

"Wound you? I dare say that fall you took would have wounded you more than I! As for your request, there is great power in a name and that is a most lavish gift," she gave him a cryptic look that spoke beyond her years. That her Uncle Niccolo said line to her, and she was certain it rang true.

Before he could respond, Cristina saw her opening, "Ah! There!" she pointed behind him with a look of satisfaction, as if she had found something that was lost.

"What?" he turned to look with laughing eyes. He was enjoying this game now.

She spoke from behind him, "A dottore to heal your wounds. Feel better soon, Signore Luigi Farnese."

Her voice held a misty quality to it and, when he turned around, she was gone. Searching the crowd, he had found no sign of her blue dress, yellow flower, or golden eyes. She had completely disappeared as if never there to begin with.