TMWolf: Lmao I almost forgot to update. Whoops xD But here's the next chapter! We're going through a recovery process and setting up a LOT of things to do before we face off against Cesare's allies and then the big man himself. There's going to be a lot of things in the game I expand on that were going on elsewhere or in other media. It's going to be kinda imperfect, but I do what I can to keep close, so y'all keep an eye out for things you may or may not recognize! ;)

As always, I do my best to stick to canon, but deviate as needed~ And also as always, thank-you for your reviews! They means so much!

So this song is from The Verve - Bittersweet Symphony. Some lyrics kinda fit, I think, but the title more-so xD

23 – Bittersweet Symphony

July 8, 1501

Roma, Italy

"You weren't kidding when you said there were more guards. I definitely don't remember seeing this much red," Catherine mused as she glanced from beneath her hood at the squad of Borgia swordsmen standing at their post. They hadn't noticed the two Assassins, strolling through the crowded streets of Roma. For that, she was grateful, and a bit surprised considering not long ago the "rebellion" had started, spurred by the now infamous "Assassino"—the mysterious hooded figures who painted the bridge to the Vaticano in red; those who fought in the shadows to liberate Roma. The description thus far was just of people wearing white hoods, which made things a bit difficult to hide for her and Ezio with their usual attire, so they'd opted for an extra set of a different shade. It felt a bit odd wearing grays and blue, but it was better to be safe for this venture—at least until the guards began to settle into a false sense of security again.

"You doubted me?" Ezio chuckled, nudging her playfully. "But—it's a good thing. Our work has finally gained a big foot hold. The people are noticing. Already there's rumors spreading, and I've gotten word others might want to join the Order."

"Oh dear. Fresh meat."

"Now, now, we want them to stay," the Lord Auditore snickered.

"It might get a bit crowded in the safehouse if they all stay," she mused back, quirking her lip up.

He laughed, "Our former recruits are already making plans to take up their own living arrangements—Carlo has a woman he plans to marry, in fact. And Pietro is caring for his parents, I think?"

"Wait, where is he getting his coin?"

Ezio paused, blinking with brows scrunched, "From us—from our stores. You didn't know? Ah. Well… you know I've been restoring buildings and buying land, yes? We get plenty of income from it. It goes to our armory and supplies mostly, but also paying our Assassins a wage. Most of them do have other jobs to live on and acts as a cover, though. My father did it, too, remember? He was a banker during the day."

"Ah, right. No, it makes sense. I just… I never… noticed," Catherine mumbled, gaze dropping.

"It's alright, you were busy making sure they could survive. That, and I admit I had Machiavelli handle some of it… and Claudia, too—once she saw how terrible my managing was."

The redhead laughed this time, "She was always better at it than you… hmm maybe I should take it up then. I learned a little from her back home, and since I'm going to be predominantly at the safehouse… I should do more than just teach them and look after our kids."

"The system works alright, but… I wouldn't mind someone making sure everything is going alright. I do what I can to keep track at the safehouse or the banks, but…"

Catherine nodded, "No, it works good. You can go out and secure the means for our funds, find recruits, and work on missions, and I'll manage things at the safehouse. Train the recruits and make sure you all have a safe, secure place to come back to."

"I feel like you're still doing more," Ezio rumbled, frowning some, but his wife only chuckled, waving off his concern.

"I'm just doing the tedious work. You have the difficult part… although, if you do honestly need my help, I'll be there."

"I know, and I love you for it. But stop fretting. Just do your best and it will be enough, I promise. And if it's enough for me—for all of us… it will be enough for you," her husband smiled gently, reaching down to take her hand and bring it to his lips for a gentle kiss on the knuckles. She made a face and he laughed. "Yes, I knew what you were really thinking. Now, enough of that. Just be as you are and get ready. We're almost here."

"Where are we going again, by the way? You've been calling it a surprise, but we're not that far from the Isola," Catherine mused, brow raised as she let her husband tug her along the stone pathways, keeping close to the river's edge and venturing through a small alleyway between buildings. It was far from prying eyes—especially those of guards'—and no foot traffic was going through.

"I know, but it's a surprise," the man grinned like an imp, to which she could only raise a brow, shake her head with a laugh, and let him take the lead. It wasn't much farther, thankfully, and she found herself in a small courtyard, a wall separating them from the river, and against it was a bench. Ezio bade her to sit with him, specifically on the left side. Her husband said not one word, and no matter how many looks or prods she made towards him, he remained quiet.

Then—footsteps. Catherine looked to the other entryway, peering under her hood as a cloaked figure came from the shadows. The figure paused when they saw her, but then looked to Ezio when he removed his own hood. The visitor's posture relaxed and they, too, pulled back their hood.

Catherine gasped.

"Leo!" she shouted, shooting up from her seat and shoving the cloth from her head. The artists' face lit up as brightly as hers had and he let out a sound of joy.

"Oh! Catherine! My dear Catherine!" he cried out, rushing forward to meet her. The two embraced, swinging around, and holding each other tight. It ended after a good, long moment and then he quickly kissed both of her cheeks before taking her hands. Tears brimmed at his eyes as he looked at her, and although concern flickered there for a moment—she didn't miss that it happened when he saw her new scars—they were filled with elation. "Oh, my dear friend! I had been so relieved when I saw Ezio, but you as well?! You made it out alive! Ah! Ezio, you are cruel! You made me worry so much when you did not answer! You nearly made me despair!"

"Wait—what!? Ezio!" the redhead snapped, throwing a glare at her husband. The man, of course, wore a cheeky grin as he came forward and wrapped both arms around the two of them. Laughter was shared before the Assassin made a motion to quiet down.

"I wanted to surprise you—both of you. You see, while I was out earlier this morning to do some scouting—you were tending to the children, remember? Well, I was heading back from the route when I heard someone calling for me," Ezio chuckled, clapping Leonardo's shoulder warmly.

The artist chuckled, "Not my most… eloquent means, but I had to be careful. If the Borgia knew I was consorting with you…"

Her husband looked to her, "Leonardo is employed to the Borgia, 'Cat—not by choice, of course, but you understand?"

"Of course, of course! You would never work for a monster so willingly," the redhead nodded, squeezing her friend's hand.

"Indeed… the things Cesare has made me create! Ah, it wounds my heart deeply. I fear the carnage he will wrought with them," Leonardo sighed, shaking his head. He perked up, though, looking to the two Assassins. "But—but this is a good day! You two are alive and well! Or… or you have changed, but… but I am just… I feared the worst after the attack on the Villa, but when I heard word of the attack near the Castel… I knew it was you two. Oh! Oh, please, tell me—Is Diana alright? Did she make it out? And what of Lady Maria? And—and Claudia and her sons?"

"Ezio," Catherine sighed, turning to give her husband a deadpan stare. His grin grew wide. "You didn't tell Leo, either? Good God, why did I marry you… Ah, Leo, don't worry—Diana is perfectly fine, as are Maria, Claudia, her boys. We… lost Mario and Ottavio, but… we gained a new member—I gave birth to a son last year. We named him Mario, after his late Great Uncle."

"What!? Oh, my dear, another child! That is wondrous, happy news! But—but then… Oh, dear you were with child during the attack were you not? Oh, oh dear… wait—Oh, your Uncle Mario! And Ottavio! Oh.. Oh dear… I… you must tell me more—tell me everything! I wish to know."

"It… will take a long while, I think," Ezio chuckled, causing the artist to pause. He rubbed his beard—it was so much thicker than she remembered—and hummed aloud.

"I… I will make time. The guards may give me grievance, but they know I leave to obtain supplies or 'inspiration'. Cesare has, thankfully, given me decent leeway with my work. They only are adamant Icomplete it—quickly. As of late he ahs been quite satisfied with my machines, as much as I despise them."

"..Er…. 'machines'?" both Auditore asked in unison. Leonardo's brows lifted, then lowered, and his shoulders visibly fell. The two Assassins exchanged worried looks and Catherine squeezed her friend's hand gently.

"It seems I have much to tell as well… and perhaps you might be able to help me with it," he spoke wearily, gaze falling, but then motioned to the bench. "Come, come. Sit. We will talk for a little while, and if we cannot speak of it all today, then we will meet again another time."

"Alright," Catherine chuckled, smiling warmly, and the three friends moved to the wooden structure where they sat and they talked for as long as time would allow.

They spoke of everything they had passed; of the fall of their home, the loss of their loved ones, their separation, the rebuilding of their Order, the movement to free Roma of the Borgia; of Mario, Caterina, and Federico's rescue, and more. Some they did leave out—in particular, the redhead's madness. It would have only worried their friend, and so they kept it to themselves, though the artist always had a lingering notion. But he knew it was for the best, and so did not ask as he ventured into his own tale, explaining how he came under the Borgia's eyes and the great, powerful, and terrible machines they had made him built. They were machines of war, and they would only bring death to all who crossed them. He had loathed himself in making them, but he could not fight, and now his creations were free to use as they saw fit. Countless more would die because of him, and so he looked to his friends, eyes pleading.

"You must destroy them," he bade. "I do not know where, exactly, they have been taken, but I do know the Templars overseeing their construction. I at least have that much. I am sorry I can not give more, but… please… My soul could never be at peace knowing my work—machines made by my hands—caused so much bloodshed."

"Of course—of course, Leo! You know we would. We can't let Cesare keep such powerful tools," Ezio nodded, wrapping an arm around his friend's shoulders.

Catherine nodded, "No kidding. Where do you think he'll turn them once he'd done using it on the rest of Italia? Here. We have to destroy them before he can use them. You have the locations?"

"Yes. Er… in my mind right now. I will have to return to my workshop to write them down and meet with you again tomorrow. I normally would not advise meeting here again so soon—lest the Borgia catch on. But—I have an idea. Here," Leonardo spoke quickly, moving up from his seat and pulling out a piece of chalk. His earlier worry was replaced with a vigor now as he drew a hand pointing to the left of the bench. "There. Should you see this mark on a bench, I am waiting nearby."

"Clever," the redhead chuckled, glancing down at the excellently drawn hand. As always, it made her own abilities look like child's play.

"Oh, Leonardo, I nearly forgot, but… Catherine and I lost the Codex inventions you made for us. I don't mean to impose, but…"

The artist chuckled, "Not at all. I know they helped your work immensely, and it will be no trouble to remake them, as I never forget a design… but I will need to be compensated for the materials."

"What? The Borgia aren't paying you?" Catherine scoffed.

"Very, very little," he huffed, pouting some, before pausing and spinning towards them. "Ah! I nearly forgot… The Apple."

"Cesare had it, and made me use it," the redhead growled, folding her arms.

Leonardo glanced at her with a flicker of concern, then between them both, "He had me studying it this past year, raving about wanting to make it work again."

Catherine barked a laugh, "Ha! He got rid of me too soon, the bastard. But I suppose we're lucky for it if you—"

"Forgive me, I no longer have it," the artist winced. "Rodrigo came suddenly perhaps a month or two again and took it from me. I know not where."

"Damn… well, it's a clue, at least—to where it went," the redhead sighed, looking to her husband when he grasped her shoulder.

"Don't worry. We will recover it in time. For now, we need to focus on destroying Cesare's power and hold on the city. Reclaiming the Apple will be easier then. And to help get a start… Here, my friend—compensation," the Assassin grinned as he pulled his coin pouch from his belt and held it out to him. "We could use extra Blades of your caliber. A lot of them. Ten to begin with, if you can. We have new Assassins who need Hidden Blades of their own. I hope that should cover most?"

Leonardo glanced into the pouch, "Indeed. It will… take time—perhaps a month, to complete so many, but it can be done."

"That's more than enough. Now, take care of yourself, Leo. If you ever think you're in danger… come find us at the Isola. We'll keep you safe. And, if you can, just come visit to see Diana and little Mario. She misses you terrible and I've love for you to meet our son," Catherine smiled softly before embracing her friend tight. He returned it, burying his face into her neck.

"Yes, of course. Oh, how I have missed you both! We must speak again soon, if only for your new Blades… I do not think it is safe for me to send them on my own."

"We can send one of our own to pick them up if need be."

"My workshop is a bit far from here—on the northwestern edge of the city, close to the countryside. I can leave a mark, like this hand, for you to recognize it."

"Good, that will do nicely. Now, go on, my friend. We don't want the Borgia to wonder," Ezio chuckled, embracing the artist briefly, and then stepped aside to let his wife do the same.

"Be safe, Leo. I want you to be able to surprise Diana one of these days," she chuckled, which Leonardo returned.

"I look forward to the day I do. Until then—safety and peace to you both."

Catherine watched her friend go, his gaze a bit uneasy as he made back to the street. It pained her to know he had to fear his so called "benefactors" and would have to sneak around to meet with them. She was relieved, though, to see him alive and well enough, even if he'd been forced to create that which went against his beliefs. One exchange of looks with her husband, though, told her he would, without fail, destroy them, and so that was one gift they could give their friend. And in turn they now had a boon—not just the return of one of their loved ones, but the one person who could produce their equipment quickly, efficiently, and in mass. Leonardo would provide the Assassins with an advantage the Borgia could never hope to meet, which made the flame of hope they'd sparked glow all the brighter.

The redhead smiled some as she suddenly slapped her the back of her hand against her husband's belly, earning a grunt and pout as he rubbed at it.

"What was that for?!"

"For not telling me it was Leo."

"I told you it was a surprise!" he huffed, folding his arms, and she pat one.

"Which is why I forgive you."

"Shall I warn you about the other surprise then or will you still smack me?"

She paused, raising a brow, "What other surprise?"

Ezio winked, "You'll see."

-O-

"…Tell me again how you managed to get this all together right under my nose?"

"I have my ways," her lovable, imp of a husband hummed with delight as they entered their safehouse, which had, in the hour or two that they had been gone, transformed to look more like a banquet hall. Extra tables and chairs had been pulled into the main hallway, littered with trays of food that smelled purely delicious, and plenty of pitchers of wine or ale that might fill the many goblets provided. The halls were adorned in red flags displaying the Assassin insignia proudly. And in the center of it all? A throng of Assassins cloaked in pristine white with a flash of red that stood out like a light in the dark. That, of course, was the point; it was a call sign beyond their Blades, and every Assassin wore their garbs proudly. Hoods were down, revealing their delighted faces, the motley group breaking off to talk with whomever they pleased.

Among them were also Federico and Giovanni, who spoke fondly with both their mother and Bartolomeo. Not far from them, the mercenary's wife, Pantasilea and Lady Maria conversed upon a sofa, locked deep in some talk of whatever noblewoman of their caliber spoke of. Catherine had to pause when she took in her mother-in-law, noting she looked different than she remembered—or rather, she hadn't bothered to notice. Gray strands filled her dark veil of hair now, and her face had wrinkles she didn't remember. Her shoulders weren't held as high, nor was her posture as straight. Yet, her smile was warm and her eyes strong. Despite the creep of age, a fire still burned within. The thought brought a grin to Catherine's face as she let her eyes wander again, catching sight of La Volpe in his shadowed spot, although he'd been discovered by Diana, whom was intent on pestering him with questions. Thankfully, the older man carried an amused smirk as he replied in kind. Servants brought more things out and about, but otherwise their party was complete. Machiavelli was missing, but he was a busy man, and parties were not his thing.

"I thought it would do us good—to celebrate our victory," the Assassin mused, wrapping an arm around his wife's waist. "It may be a small one, and just a small part of a very long fight… but we did something great when we escaped the Castello. We made a true stand. Long we've known the Borgia could bleed, but now? Now all of Roma knows, and that is worth celebrating."

"True," Catherine chuckled, placing her hand on his as she took in the scene. Pierro and Giotto were chatting with Belloza and laughing about some joke. The burly woman made a gentle shove, and both men made playful jabs as if to start a mock fight, tag-teaming their stronger opponent. The larger of the two men looked to have healed well after the wound Micheletto inflicted on him. To their left, Jacopo smirked at Alessandra, who wore a coy smile herself. The redhead couldn't help raising a brow at that, especially when the once uncouth young man puffed his chest out—just a little; just enough to show off. Because he was. The young lady didn't mind. Catherine found Carlo off by himself, reading a book of all things as he lounged back in a chair. She hadn't taken him for the scholarly type. There was a great deal she hadn't taken many of them for, truth be told.

Ezio other hand brushed her cheek gently, "What is it? You look troubled."

The redhead blinked, not realizing she'd been staring or that she had such an expression on her face. She felt it, though, as her gaze dropped, and she let out a slow sigh.

"I just… I'm not used to seeing them like this," she chuckled. Her husband chuckled back, kissing her brow.

"Well, you were either training them, on a mission, or taking care of Diana. You didn't have much time to."

"You were doing the same, though."

"Ah, well," Ezio chuckled, the guilt palpable, "I may have given them more free time during my training sessions."

"Of course you did," Catherine chuckled, rolling her eyes, though sobered some. "I… I'm glad—that you did, though. Someone needed to."

"Hey, none of that. Tonight… is for celebrating. So enjoy it. Meet your Assassins. You trained them well," her husband murmured, his smile gentle. "Now, come on. And don't worry—I'll do the speech."

"Oh, good, because I definitely didn't prepare one for the party I didn't know was going to happen," the redhead snorted, sending him another look. He laughed as he nudged her forward, and she walked with him to the throng of people. She held her guilt well behind a mask of calmness as eyes began to shift towards them and voices grew quiet. She and her husband had the floor, so to speak, as Ezio filled two goblets with wine and passed one to her. He then looked to the recruits, whom had their own drinks in hand already.

"Greetings, Brothers. Sisters. Comrades. Allies. Loved ones. I have called you here today for a celebration, for a great victory has been won. It may not seem much, and, perhaps, nothing at all at times, but what you all did on that bridge barely a few nights ago… you have started something far greater than you or anyone else might realize. It is but a ripple now, a murmur in the streets, but soon it will become a thunderous wave that will shake the very foundations of Roma. On this day we celebrate the beginning of the end of the Borgia. Once thought invulnerable, they have been made to bleed. Once thought to be gods, they are now mortal… for a God does not bleed, and this wound will be their end. It will fester and grow black, and Roma will, at last, be free, and it will be because of what you have done. You. Assassins. Brother and Sisters of the Order. The Madame of the Rosa. The commander of our mercenaries. Our charming master thief of the Sleeping Fox. Together, we have done this," Ezio spoke, his voice echoing through the stone walls. No gaze wavered from him, his words instilling a deep, unrelenting warmth that grew pride and joy in droves.

His face grew somber some, "But this was only the beginning. Our battle against the Borgia will be no easier. In fact, I imagine it will become far more difficult and the price may be great. It will not come swiftly, either. Cesare has the entire army at his disposal and the French at his side. He has the money to back it, and more. We are woefully small in comparison, but we are stronger—never forget that. These men and women beside you, who train, and sweat blood and tears beside you…. There are none braver and stronger, and it is the bonds you forge here in the Order that will continue to let that strength grow to overcome our enemies. It will keep you strong for as long as it takes to bring him down and make no mistake—it will take time. Years, even, but our Order is not meant to be temporary. It is meant to last and has lasted for centuries. Ours is not just a passing fancy of an ideal or a small rebellion. It is the physical manifestation of an ideal. A will of the people that will not be manacled by anyone. And it is up to us to preserve it and ensure men like Cesare never succeed in tearing it down. This is what we fight for, and it is why Cesare and the Borgia will fall."

A cheer rang out from the group, wine sloshing in their cups, splattering on the floor. Merriment was clear on their faces, and Catherine couldn't help the feeling of pride swelling in her chest. The people she'd trained looked so strong and ready—for anything. They had done something great, and they knew it. The notion would fuel them and drive them to do even greater things.

How could she have missed how much they'd grown; how they'd become something… more?

"Where other men follow the truth, remember… nothing is true," Ezio spoke, his voice low, as if in prayer. Goblets lowered, and all eyes focused as faces grew somber. "Where other men are limited by morality or law, remember… everything is permitted. We work in the dark to serve the light. We… are Assassins."

Heads bowed for a moment, the silence reverent, and then Ezio raised his goblet once more, a grin on his face.

"Long live the Assassini!" he bellowed, and the room echoed his words and gestures. Wine was downed, and the merriment began in suit.

Conversations were continued, while some ended and new ones brought up. The noblewomen of the safehouse were content to continue their own talk, lightly sipping their drinks, and mostly ignoring their food. Bartolomeo soon brought La Volpe into his talk, who appeared to have a more acute interest in Federico than the mercenary. The boy was brighter than his brother, and trickier. He could potentially be useful to the thief, if not just his mother. Of their Assassins, it was Alessandra and Jacopo who approached the to Mentors, clasping arms, and trading trivial words of congratulations and talk of the future—of more training and more important missions; working independently, and so forth. The two had a hunger to do great deeds, and they were ready for it. There was certainly more between them than comrade as well—that is, if their request to work on missions together was anything to go by. They chalked it up to their skillsets complimenting each other well—which they did, as she and Ezio did—but Catherine had an idea. Of course, they gave their blessing and would do their best to make it happen.

Once the two "not" love birds left to lounge about and eat, the others came by. Pierro and Giotto, as was expected, wanted to work together, being brothers in far more than just the Order. They had developed a deep bond and they were stronger together than apart. They mentioned Belloza joining them for heavy duty missions, but otherwise the burly woman offered to handle ones of her own, rather determined to make a mark by herself. Carlo was content to go solo himself, and Catherine felt he could do just fine. She lamented she might not be able to adhere to all their requests depending on the mission, but she would do her best. It would be better if they had more recruits, of which she asked all their Assassins to try and bring in if or when Ezio couldn't.

But that was for later. For now, she took in what she could from their casual talk. There was much to learn, it seemed. Pierro, for one, had the family she'd only heard of today, and apparently his mother was a bit ill. He'd had an older brother before, but the Borgia had slain him—his reason for the fight. Giotta was similar, in that he'd had a younger brother, but lost both him and his parents to the Borgia or sickness of some kind. It was no wonder the two had bonded so tightly. Belloza had simply lived the life of a peasant, unable to find a husband, and watched as the Borgia ruined her family with their violence and taxes. Hers was a reasonable plight, and she hoped to prevent any from losing their families if she could help it. Jacopo, by some luck, had kept his family and even had a good job when not working as an Assassin, but this was certainly his calling—he'd spoken of quitting the shop to work for the Order full time. Alessandra came from a low-born family herself and was expected to marry a Borgia guard, but had refused him for his cruelty and now her family had nothing. She'd sworn vengeance and now worked to both help the people and kill the man who ruined her. Carlo was the last, and he was a simple farmer at heart, but his lands had been seized, and he wished to pay the Borgia back and, perhaps, reclaim his lands. With luck, the Order might help him achieve it.

All of them, regardless of where they had come from, were strong, proud, and determined individuals. They made the Order bigger—and better—than it was. She had trained them; took them from their lowest and helped bring them here.

And yet, she hadn't even known anything about them until now.

Catherine kept a smile on her face, but her gut twisted with the guilt. She had treated them like tools. Pawns. They had been but a means to an end for her, and she had nearly gotten Giotto killed. He stilled smiled and laughed with her, though; looked at her with esteem. It hurt. She should have been relieved he did, but there was only the guilt and shame. She had done awful things, and yet they still looked to her as their Mentor. She couldn't fathom it, truthfully.

"You've barely touched your wine," Ezio spoke, touching her back gently. She blinked, pushing the feelings back, but they lingered.

"Just… a lot on my mind," she replied softly, bringing the cup to her lips as if to drink, but paused instead, and took it away a moment later. "Did you know? About all of them? Their lives?"

He regarded her for a moment, taking in her visage, "Yes, I did. I would ask during break session."

"Ah… I… I'll have to make sure to get to know the new recruits like you then."

"Catherine…"

"I can't excuse what I did… and I don't want you to even let yourself tease the thought," she replied quickly, flashing him a look.

He was quiet for a few moments, "…Alright. But… don't ruin yourself over it. You can't."

"…I know. Ah," Catherine sighed, looking down at her sloshing drink. "I don't know if I'm up for more of the festivities."

"It's about Mario and Diana's bed time, if you want a good excuse to leave," Ezio chuckled, but she could hear the concern in his tone. "I'll stay and keep them occupied, if you'd like?"

"I think that would be good. Mario has been tricky to get to sleep lately, anyways. And, Ezio?" she called, reaching up to stroke the side of his face. "Don't worry. I'll be fine. Promise."

"Go on. Kiss them goodnight for me," he smiled gently before stealing his own kiss. She returned it with a smile and slipped through the crowd to the stairs. Her husband was quick to wave off any wonders of her departure with mention of their children, and so she was left unmolested as she ventured to the upper floors to their shared master suite. A maid had been left with the children for the occasion, but she was happy to relieve herself of her duties. Mario was fussing some, perhaps a bit hungry or just tired.

"How come I can't go to the party, Mama?" Diana huffed, kicking her legs lazily on her and her husband's bed.

"it's an adult party and you're far too young for it, that's why," Catherine chuckled, pulling her daughter close for a hug and a kiss on the brow. "Were you good for the maid and your brother?"

"Of course!" the young girl huffed, puffing her chest up proudly. "Mario kept trying to pull my hair, though. I don't know if I like having a baby brother."

The redhead laughed, "Oh, you will. But he's just a baby, and you did the same thing to your father. In fact, you yanked his pony tail really hard once. So be good to him. He's your family, and family needs to protect each other."

"Mmm that's true. 'Rico and 'Vani are pretty close. I guess we'll be like that, too," Diana sighed, peering over at her brother. "I wished he looked more like me, though. 'Rico and 'Vani look the same."

"Well, they're both boys… and this just makes you two more unique. Besides, your cousins look nothing like your auntie. But you? You look like me, and your brother looks like your Papa. That's pretty special, yeah?"

"Yeah, it is," the young girl giggled, bouncing in her spot. She leaned against her mother when she went on, "It's good to have brother and 'Rico back. You, too, Mama."

"I've been here quite a while, you imp," Catherine chuckled, draping an arm over her daughter's shoulders.

"Yeah, but… you weren't, too. But now you're really back. It feels like home now. This place isn't home… but it feels like it."

"Ah… yes… I suppose it does," the redhead replied softly, her gut twisting once more. The ease she'd reclaimed around her children was gone, although she kept a smile on her face for her children. She didn't dare let them know how the words had driven a knife deep—straight into her soul. She didn't tell them how it made a cold prickle of fear and dismay go through her; of how the pain had gone further than she thought. She made doubly sure to not let Diana see her look to the wolf head cowl, eyes gleaming in the dark; as if ready to strike. It was a reminder, and the whispers were a calling.

It wanted her back, but she couldn't. She had to change—to get better. Somehow. If she had any hope of truly escaping them, she would have to do something.

For now, though, she forced the whispers are far back as she could get them, all the while smiling brightly at her daughter and rocking her boy to sleep. And for that night, it was enough.

23 – End

TMWolf: And there we are! Another chapter down, and a lot of things happening in what might not seem that way.

So. First: LEO! Finally they reunite! I almost lament we won't see TOO much of him. The story just doesn't focus on him much for what it's going to cover, but he will pop up every so often :)

Now, secondly: did anyone think my little recruits were THAT bland of characters? Well, you were wrooooooooooong ;D They have their own backgrounds going on and lives, too... you, as the readers, just never got to see it because Catherine never bothered to... which is finally weighing in on her. She'd been so consumed with revenge she only ever saw her recruits as tools, but, thankfully, they don't hold it against her, and even understand where she came from to some extent. They all wanted-and still do want-revenge of their own, but they've also grown as she has and see the greater purpose to what they do.

So there they are. The little fledglings, now proper Assassins, and living their lives to the fullest as they help to fight to protect Rome. And Ezio and 'Cat couldn't be prouder.

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuut not all is too well hehe. Catherine is not totally free of her demons just yet...