A/N: Slight mention of OCs/own headcanon stuff. Hope you don't mind.
"How odd, amico, that most our lives should have been spent together in danger," Ezio murmured softly.
A few of Ezio's first apprentices (now full-fledged Assassins in their own right) as well as his sons were respectfully waiting, standing by like shadows in the quiet night. Claudia, however, stood right beside him, eyes closed with her own lament over the close friend.
His eyes moved from the wooden container to the worn stack of parchment in his calloused hands, looking through each one; seeing himself as how the artist did, the hint of a smirk on his lips, the mischievous glint in his eyes that had become more and more subtle as time passed.
But always human, always an individual and not the killer's mask that the people saw, not the fatherly figure or the leader that his novices and sons knew.
Moving over to the lit torch, he threw each parchment piece by piece into the flames, knowing that one day someone would peruse into the famed artist's works. These were private, and were for Leonardo's own eyes only.
He stepped back, quietly watching now as his two sons kept from their own tears, knowing very well how muchmore painful it was for their padre.
Slowly, the youngest, Dante - also the splitting image of Ezio himself, albeit with hair that fell only to his shoulders - moved to take the red hat seated atop the coffin and put it atop his head, before moving to embrace his father. The older, named Federico, went to join in, although as the fratello he did his best to stay strong.
A few brief sounds showed that they had to go. Claudia nodded and left in another direction, the apprentices dispersed like light upon shadow and the Auditore men stepped off towards the stables.
For a moment, Ezio paused behind his sons, facing the direction of Leonardo's final resting place.
His lips parted to say final words; not a prayer, for those did not exist on an Assassin's lips.
With a resounding bang, the box was lit into flames, a few enraged French voices obvious over the cackling of flames as the hooves of three horses beat away into the night.