Peace. So many times had he been teased with the thought of it in his life, of the idea of calm and stability. At last, it was upon him, not a dream or a falsehood; never again would Ezio let his chance for a rest from this life slip away. The final door had been opened and its secrets revealed, he was in the company of a beautiful woman, and together they were returning home to Costantinopoli. The journey home-or at least, where they could be alone with each other for a time-was almost complete, and Ezio had found himself too restless to stay asleep below deck in the confined quarters.

The steps weren't kind to his knees after such a long time in his cot, and Ezio winced to hear one crack. Still, the breath of breeze that ruffled his hair loose was a bigger relief than he could say. Naval travel was not what he preferred, but he had opted to return to Costantinopoli by ship for Sofia's sake. She had proven impressive on their trek to Masyaf on foot, and he had grown to expect nothing less of her, but wanted to ensure her comfort for the way back. Ezio felt he at least owed her that, for dragging her into the insanity that his life often was.

Their ship was gliding closer to the city's docks at a leisurely pace-so slowly, in fact, that it almost did not appear to move at all. Leaning against the banisters with naught but the sound of the sea and the creakings of the ship to disturb him, Ezio found it challenging to keep his eyes open. Folded deep within the familiar layers of his assassin's robes, knowing that no urgent tasks or fearsome wars awaited them on land, was enough to allow himself to relax. It was not in his nature to present vulnerability so readily; decades of training and instinct screamed out against it. But Ezio was older now, his body not the tower of resilience it once been. Although he drifted, the man couldn't help scanning the area for anything suspect before giving in completely to sleep's duress.

He hadn't even realized that slumber had stolen him until light footsteps over the deck startled him awake.

"Sleeping like a horse? Is that something you teach your students as well?"

Sofia Sartor was smiling at him in that teasingly innocent way she had-Ezio knew it well.

"I was not sleeping," he denied quickly. "I was simply...admiring the sunrise."

Eyes glittering with humor, her tongue's next words were both witty and sharp. "While snoring."

With a chuckle of defeat, Ezio held out his arms for her. "Okay, okay, mi tesoro. You caught me in a moment of weakness."

It delighted Ezio to no end to see Sofia come to his embrace so willingly. After all of their afternoon conversations, the work they had done together, what she'd endured for him-the physical confirmation of her nestled against his chest made Ezio feel more alive than he had in years. Most amazing of all-the full nature of his life and his work had been revealed to her, and she had taken it all in with a nod and the face of a warrior. Mio Dio, how he loved her. Sofia's charm, her intelligence, her humor; they were all just pieces of the whole that made up one astounding woman. Her friendship, her companionship, was as priceless as air.

As of late, the friendship was... more. In the hidden depths of his mind it had always felt that way, from the moment he'd seen her and growing in strength since. Holding back the way he really felt from Sofia, doing the proper thing, acting like a gentleman, it had sometimes been a strain. Would t it have been so much easier to toss it all away, sweep clean the desk she sat behind so prettily, and take her? Yes. Yes, a younger Ezio would have done it, and with brutish haste, would she have had him. This recent intimacy set something purring deep in his chest, an assurance of mutual attraction and the promise of more to come.

Costantinopoli had drawn closer in the lull of sleep, close enough that the city's details were beginning to sharpen. The light of dawn made everything shimmer, turned the water to gold.

"Finally. I can't wait to be home," Sofia sighed. Her warm breath tickled Ezio's neck, the soft flesh of her cheek resting against his body.

"It seems as if we've been away years, no?" He tucked his chin atop her head and pulled her closer. Sofia always smelled of old parchment, the glue that bound books together, and a particular floral scent he couldn't name (Could it be tulips? It was possible.). Any of the smells on their own were enough to distract him on missions, turning his mind to the bookstore, to her, again.

"Si. I have so much to do when we return, but for now it's nice to just admire it all from afar."

"What do you mean?"

Sofia eyed him as if he had gone mad. "My bookstore, Ezio! My attackers reduced it to shambles."

Ah. That problem. It had not been hard to set his assassins to work retidying her precious space. Now all that was left to do was see how clearly they had followed his instructions. If they tidied half as well as they killed, he would reward them richly. Not that Sofia had to know that that had been done for her yet; Ezio intended to keep that to himself. Instead, he murmured his condolences and vowed that they would get to work as soon as they reached land.

"Forse you should get some real sleep before then?" Sofia raised an eyebrow as she looked up at him.

"Do not underestimate me because of a little drowsiness, Sofia. I was simply too restless to see the sky I grew to know you under." Ezio placed a kiss on her temple, the sensation made rough and whiskery by his greying beard. It was ridiculous, how his pulse could take off just from being allowed to kiss her now. These moments with her had remained chaste, but this did not matter-they were full of sweetness and some measure of relief, even.

She laughed, and Ezio wasn't sure if it was from the line he'd used or the scratchy feeling of the kiss. "You missed. Let me help you." Sofia Sartor, the kind woman who had seemed so lovely and chaste upon their first meeting, brought her mouth up to his own with a warm eagerness Ezio could sense as much as feel. Grinning, he moved one hand to the back of her head to tangle into that thick mass of copper hair, moistening her lips with his breath as they adjusted against one another.

An old man and his amore, embracing on the deck of a ship. A scandal, Ezio thought to himself. Sofia sighed deeply into his open mouth, and it was enough to line his skin with gooseflesh. Now more than ever he was grateful that the robes he wore hung loosely over his waist and hips-soon the ship would begin to dock, and it would be far from eloquent to enter the crowds of the city with a sword hilt in his breeches. It would be too easy to lose himself on the deck in this passion, but Sofia was right- there were still things to be done.

"Basta per ora, mio colomba. You, er-" Ezio glanced at a passing sailor and felt his face redden at the words he had almost uttered within the stranger's earshot. "You have a rather strong effect on me, you know."

She, too, had flushed from the spontaneity of the moment-however, it was not enough to keep Sofia from lingering a moment to stare up at him, smiling unashamedly in her enjoyment. Ezio found instantly that he liked that. He had courted many girls and women over the course of his life who had, at least at the start, acted coy or shy at his advances. There was nothing of this in Sofia's eyes, and this felt...what was the word? Refreshing? Challenging? Si.

"So it seems." Relenting to his wishes, however reluctant they truly were, Sofia turned away from him and faced the city.

Around them, the ship was finally making preparations to dock. Crewmen appeared from nowhere in spades, shouting their sailor's terms and disturbing the peace of morning at once. Ropes were hoisted, sails adjusted, and over it all the cacophony of Costantinopoli came ringing. From Ezio's experience, it could take anywhere from one hour to many to finish it all, depending on how liquor-laden the crewmen still were from the night before. He never stuck around for the whole process. It was too tedious to bear. Already anxious from watching a few minutes of the slow-going process, an idea struck Ezio like flint.

Not far to the right of the docks, a tightly stretched, strand-thin piece of leather line spanned the space between two wooden poles. From there it would only take the hookblade, one broad leap, and presto-a shortcut of immense proportions. All that remained was Sofia's agreement.

"Do you feel like taking a shortcut, la signorina?"

"Would this shortcut involve doing some strange, eye-catching stunt to get us off of this ship, perhaps?"

"Would that bother you?"

"Of course not. Per favore, let me in on the plan." Heart thumping with the thrill of both an imminent leap of faith and the thought of taking Sofia along for the ride, Ezio did just that.

It was to the shock and awe of dozens of citizens that they launched from the bow of the ship, Ezio gripping tightly to the hookblade with one arm and round Sofia's waist with the other. To his immense pleasure, Sofia was half-shrieking, half-laughing as they made their eye-watering descent to land. Ezio found himself laughing too, for the first time in a long time while going through the familiar motions. It reminded him of when he had first learned to claim the rooftops for his own as a young man, swinging and grappling and roaring in the face of danger. There had been nothing to lose, and every reason to be fearless. This felt the same, but with happiness in his chest instead of hatred.

Landing with a stumble, the two struggled to right themselves. There were exclamations and screams as they did, but it didn't matter. Sofia's cheeks were pink again, her exhilarated laughter contagious.

"Ezio," she began breathlessly. "I feel as if you and I are about to start something wonderful."

"I would wager you say that to all the men who carry you through the skies."

"No! Only you."

The certainty on her face was sweet to see. Grasping one of her hands in his gloved one, Ezio Auditore, lethal assassin and master to many others across Italia, led the way back to Sofia's shop through Costantinopoli's bustling streets.