Please enjoy the last chapter of Roots :) Thank you so much for reading my ridiculously long story. I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

Thanks again,

Kovi

Kostantiniyye

1511

Yusuf Tazim groaned and rubbed the back of his hand against his tired eyes. He was by no means an elderly man, although to most of the twenty-somethings he spent so much time teaching, forty years must be positively ancient.

The Assassin set down his quill and took a moment to stare at the parchment that lay before him across the desk of his old Mentor. He then let himself give into the powerful urge to stretch, after having been hunched over a desk for so long his shoulders arched.

Evet. That should do.

"Maestro?"

Yusuf smiled and rested his arm over the back of the seat, shooting a glance at his accomplished apprentice.

"Içeriye gel, Casi. I'm just finishing." He heard the door gently creak open. And the sound of his long-time student taking a slow breath. But then there was nothing but silence.

His apprentice was far too easy to read.

"Well – out with it! I'm certainly not getting any – " Yusuf spun around off his chair, but his beaming smile faded just as quickly as it had sprung up. Casimiro grinned weakly, rubbing the back of his head, fingertips raking through thick hair the color of cocoa beans. Yusuf emitted a sigh, shoulders drooping.

"It's my son." He didn't even need to ask. He loved the boy dearly, but he was getting to be more of a handful for his poor mother than Yusuf ever dreamed possible.

"Si." Casimiro confirmed with a weak laugh. "Eh, Maestro…go easy on the boy." Yusuf snorted, taking long strides over to the door that led from his chamber into the main corridor that ran the length of the Assassin den.

"Little you know." He grumbled darkly, furrowing his brow and shaking his head in dismay. "It's the boy's mother he has to be afraid of."

"So. What was it this time, Baj?" Yusuf walked side-by-side with his son. Eleven years ago, he could not have imagined that this was where he would be today. He'd never imagined having a family – albeit, one that had to live in secrecy. That had been Bajram's dream. But now Seref and Baj were Yusuf's responsibility. And he loved no other soul more than the boy he now strode beside.

Baj's face was a mixture of anger and frustration. He'd been caught once more scaling the walls of the apartments surrounding his own, as well as the vender stalls in the marketplace. Yusuf would have found his interest in rooftop acrobatics amusing, if it wasn't so dangerous. And he could already guess what all this acting out was more or less about. Himself.

"How come you're never at home? Anne says that you work a lot. But there's more than that, isn't there." The boy didn't even phrase it as a question. Yusuf chuckled quietly. The kid was smart and insightful. Forever serious. He was more like Yusuf's old friend then like his father, that was for sure. And he deserved to be spoken to as an adult.

"Baj, your mother is right. I do work a lot. But…you're also right, as well." He paused, bending down to the boy's height.

"She has told you that I work with the Assassins, no?"

Baj nodded. "She says you help protect the city from the bad men."

"Evet – I do. And it is work that keeps me very busy."

"But papa…why can't you be home more often?"

Yusuf gave a tired sigh and rubbed his temples. It was the very question he asked himself day in and day out. And from years of asking such a question, he had what had to seem to the boy like a very unsubstantial answer.

"Because my staying away is what helps to keep you safe, Baj." He tilted the boy's chin upward, looking at him with serious eyes.

"The many enemies of the Assassins would like nothing better than to hunt me down. If they ever succeed, and they find out about you or your mother, they would go after you as well." This was a heavy burden he was placing on the shoulders of his very young son. Yusuf knew Assassins whose families lived in constant fear of being discovered. Yusuf never wanted that for Seref and Baj. Although maybe it was time that he shared more with the boy then what he'd been willing to thus far. Again, Baj deserved the truth.

The eleven-year-old appeared to consider this.

"Will you protect us?"

Yusuf blinked, than grasped both his son's shoulders.

"I would die for you, Baj. And your mother. Even if you grow to resent me for not being there for you, know that."

Baj stared at his father for a long time, before lifting the corner of his mouth into a tiny smile. He looked so much like his namesake that, if he had not otherwise known better, Yusuf himself would begin to question the child's parentage.

"Biliyorum, papa. I know."

Yusuf spent the rest of the afternoon with his boy, making up for what had to be months of lost time. He even took him up to one of the lower rooftops in a safe area of town, and the two sat with their legs dangling over the side for hours. They talked of Baj's mother, of Yusuf himself, of the Assassins, their enemies and the history of both. Yusuf even told his son about his old friends, Rafat, and of course, Bajram. He was surprised at how little he had apparently told him before. Although he'd spent time with Baj in the past, it felt as though walls had been torn down this afternoon, and the forty-year-old Assassin felt more at peace with himself then he had in years.

Now, however, the sun was beginning to set. Yusuf helped his highly reluctant son off the overhang, and escorted him back to the apartment he shared with Seref. He smiled upon seeing her again, and blinked in surprise when she threw her arms around his neck before thrusting a cup of warm tea into his hands. He supposed…it wouldn't hurt to stay for a few minutes.

"We have missed you very much." Seref told him after she'd seen Baj off to bed, the gentle rebuke clear in her tone. He smiled sheepishly, setting down his half-finished cup.

"I know. And I am sorry, Seref. You know how it is."

She lowered her eyes, staring down at her hands resting in her lap. "I do. And I still miss that life. More then I think any one knows."

She smiled, feeling his calloused palm rest against her cheek, before drifting down to tilt her chin upwards. Her dark brown eyes met his astonishingly blue ones.

"I know not what you're going through, Seref. But I do understand. This work…it's difficult. No one can deny that. But some people…me, you…Bajram… We were born for it. It's the life we will continue to return to, again and again." The corners of his lips lifted into his own good-natured smile.

"You will come back to it one day, Seref. Of that, I have no doubt."

Yusuf returned home particularly late, that night. After talking with Seref for another two hours, he slipped into Baj's bedroom to see him one more time before he left. As badly as he did want to spend more time with his son then he'd been able to so far, the sad reality of his occupation meant it'd likely be another several weeks before he was able to see either him or Seref once more.

In fact, if everything went according to plan, Yusuf would be rather busy in the coming month.

"Iyi uykular." He informed the sleeping child, lightly brushing several strands of jet-black hair from his forehead. He chuckled softly, watching the boy. All that he had missed... Yusuf knew in his heart that he'd never be able to truly make up for lost time. Not the way he'd like to. And that sad reality was like a knife through the heart.

"Seni seviyorum, Baj." He whispered, lightly kissing the boy's head, before leaving.

"A message has arrived for you while you were away."

Yusuf didn't expect too many of his colleagues to be awake at this hour. But there Nasim was, waiting up for him and waving a sealed letter like a white flag. He chuckled and snatched it from her grasp, shooting her the most scalding look he could muster as he broke the seal and unfolded it. The sound of her laugh fading as she exited the main living areas via the long bedroom corridor proved just how badly he'd failed, in that respect.

Yusuf considered leaving the letter on his office desk on the way to his quarters, but curiosity over-took him. He peered down at the opened letter, blue eyes scanning the well-worn page. He blinked, and reread the script. This was…unexpected. But not bad news. Not bad news, at all.

Yusuf crossed the threshold into his chamber, setting the letter down on the nightstand. Yawning, and planning on letting himself sleep in relatively late the next day, he disrobed and slid into his comfortable cot.

A good night's rest would do him some good. It wouldn't do for him to be out of sorts when the Mentor of the Assassins, Ezio Auditore himself, arrived.

içeriye gel – come in

anne – mother

biliyorum – I know

iyi uykular – sleep well

seni seviyorum – I love you