TMWolf: Update time! Like I said before, updates are more timely as I've finished writing! :) Not too much juicy stuff this chapter or game-wise, so to speak, but it's good and kinda important filler, so enjoy!

As always, I do my best to stick to canon, adjusting as my story sees fit!

Thank-you for reading and reviewing! X)

This chapter is from the King Arthur Legend of the Sword Sound track - The Politics & The Life

25 – The Politics & The Life

August 28, 1501

Rome, Italy

"Guess what arrived?"

Catherine looked up from her spot at their mission hub, surrounded by maps, papers, books, and a few pigeon carrier cages, all of which were empty at the moment. She rubbed her eyes tiredly as she regarded her husband, his handsome mug lit with a grin. She managed to give one back before a yawn hit—just the thing to match the bags under her eyes. They were well-earned, spending long days training new recruits and long nights going over "research", of sorts. As it turned out, her plans to expand their Order involved a lot more work than just getting the numbers needed. While it was easy to consider moving further throughout Italia, trying to get outside of it was decidedly harder. England was their best first try, being that Catherine knew English even without the Clock's influence, which, thankfully, still worked to an extent, but it seemed that extent faltered when it came to languages beyond Italian and English. She had never needed to worry before, but when she'd tried understanding a map from places such as Germany, it felt like half gibberish.

Thus, the first of the problems: language. Her Clock's breaking had limited its translation powers; that is, to Italian. Any other country's native tongue required reading up on their dialect and learning it, which wasn't easy even with a basic understanding thanks to her Piece of Eden. She was, thankfully, quick to learn, but there were many countries to consider—Spain, Portugal, what she was guessing Turkey of the time, and Eastern European countries she couldn't remember the names of. Not that they were the same as they were in the future, so she supposed it didn't matter. At least, for the pointless point she was making. It did matter, though, in that to even consider sending Assassins, she needed news and records of any Orders that either did or might have once existed, if they were ever there at all.

That required even more research, and so her nights had steadily, but surely, grown busy. Machiavelli was a major help, providing her with all kinds of books and scripts to consider, and he even had some vague knowledge of the other countries due to his position of power, but that was as far as it went. There was no speaking to anyone higher up, either, and so she kept to her reading. That, too, required learning the language for some of the topics, and so her long nights grew even longer. She would have worked on the project during the day, but that was reserved for training their new recruits, of which were still coming—and going.

To her dismay, Mella hadn't made it. She'd proved too timid for the training and way of life, and all they could do was assure she kept quiet—which she would. She understood the cause and supported it, but she could not bring herself to fight by killing, and it was just too taxing for her body. So, she'd gone, while Alfonso remained, who was slowly proving his worth despite being a stubborn lad. Following them came two more women, much to her surprise—and delight—and then three more young men. Of them, one of the women and two men remained, though one was starting to lag. It was a bit of a disappointment considering their first six recruits had done so well without failing, and now to have three drop so soon? But she would not relent. Her techniques and methods remained the same, and those that stayed would thrive and drive the Borgia to their knees.

At least her full-blown Assassins were doing very well. Between teaching the new recruits or going on missions to test their skills, they'd failed only perhaps one or two missions, and none ended in serious harm or death. They grew more confident and stronger every single day, and she was proud to be called "mentor". She was equally glad to be able to speak to them more informally; treating them as her equals as Brothers and Sisters of the Order. With their help, the Borgia had steadily, but surely, been made weaker and weaker, the wounds weeping without ebb. Soon enough, they'd run dry and then the end would come.

Cesare would die.

"Please… please tell me it's a response from England. It's been, what? Two weeks? At least?" she chuckled, leaning back as she grabbed her bottle of wine and sipped it lightly. "I admit it took a bit to figure out how to contact the Order over there, but still… I would have thought they'd jump on the chance to link up and improve resources."

Ezio shrugged, pulling out the letter from his shirt, "They still have to be cautious. I don't know how well they're doing over there."

"Your Father seemed to think they were okay… decades okay," she chuckled softly as she took the parchment and quickly unsealed it to read. She smiled after a moment. "Okay, good… good… they're still in business. They're willing to start something—maybe even send some to Italia if we need help, but they wouldn't mind us going over their way, either. They made suggestions, too. Looks like the Bureau in Germany would be a good second attempt. I almost forgot England and them are often involved… or they will be. Eventually. Mix of the royalty or something."

"Then I guess we should start seeing about who to send to them—one or two, do you think?" Ezio inquired, leaning against the near wall.

"Tsk… it's hard to say, considering how they've made up into teams on their own… but… I think Carlo wouldn't mind—he's more the loner. Maybe Alfonso once he's ready. He's definitely the loner type. We'll have to talk to our Assassins to see what they think. In the meantime, I need to start writing to Germany, and maybe Spain. You've been there before, so at least they know us already."

"Ah, yes… I went when you were pregnant with Diana, right? I almost missed her birth," he hummed thoughtfully. "The Order isn't very big, so I think they'll be willing or at least open to the idea."

"Good. It's a good place to start. How are things on your end, by the way?" she asked, holding out her hand for him. He happily took it, leaning down to kiss her gently. "Sorry, I've been so caught up in this, I haven't had the time to really ask."

"Don't worry, it's fine. This is important, and I've been kept busy with the Borgia—they brought in new captains, and there were some Followers I dealt with this past month. I think there's one left—in the Vaticano. I'll try to root them out next. Our Assassins have been maintaining things in the city, thankfully."

"Oh, good, good… The kids are doing well. Mario's bigger every day, and Maria loves spending time with him. Diana's enjoying her lessons, although I don't think Claudia approves still—thinks I'm undoing all her work," the redhead snickered.

"Good, I'm glad. She's going to make a fine warrior—just like her mother. With luck, Mario will become a better warrior like his papa," he smirked, earning a playful smack.

She huffed, "Careful now. You don't want to piss off his mama. But, yes. Me, too. But, for now, we should see who wants to go to England and I can send them a letter. I wish it didn't take so long. The nice part about my time was the instant messaging."

"Yes, that would be convenient, but it's alright. We have a lot of time. Cesare is busy with his campaign, which is going slow—very slow. Bartolomeo is keeping the French busy, which helps, and Italia is resisting him."

"I wish we could get to his main co-conspirators sooner, though, but they're… surprisingly illusive," Catherine snorted, folding her arms.

Ezio shrugged, "Unfortunately. But that's not necessarily a bad thing right now—we have more time to grow and expand. It's a blessing in its own way, as much as it is a bane."

"True…," she hummed, though paused and grinned at her husband. "Look at you, being so philosophical. Niccolò is rubbing off on you."

"I enjoy hearing his council," he snickered.

"He's a good advisor, that's why," she chuckled.

"Indeed… although, La Volpe still harbors doubts."

Catherine sat up, "Still? Even after all this time?"

"It's… not as bad, but he never lets it go, and, well, I can't tell him not to. We still don't know who betrayed us at Monteriggioni or our attack on Micheletto months ago. I don't believe it's Machiavelli… but I cannot ignore Volpe's concerns, either. His word is equally important, and he, too, is a friend. I just wish I could find some proof!"

"We will… somehow," the redhead smiled, squeezing Ezio's hand by his side. "I just fear it will take time, too… but at least we can trust Volpe won't move without reason."

"No, thankfully, he won't. Still," he sighed, rubbing his face with his other hand. Catherine's smile grew softer as she stood to tug his collar down and kiss him proper. A grin appeared on his mug. "Mmm… your kisses always make me feel better."

"Well, maybe you can have some more—I think I've hit a good stopping point tonight. Can't promise I won't fall asleep on you, though."

He clicked his tongue, "Oh, kitty-'Cat, please. When I'm through with you, you'll be wide awake begging for more."

She laughed, "Oh, I look forward to it. Just let me clean up and I'll meet you upstairs."

"I'll be eagerly waiting," he purred, stealing one last kiss with a wink, and left her to tidy up the desk.

It was simple enough, though she paused on the letter from England, heart racing a bit with excitement. It was the beginning of something far grander than she or Ezio had ever imagined things could be, and she was ready for it. Even with the crippling fears—the whispering doubts that lingered from her madness—she was sure this was right and that they could do it.

All that was left was to ponder who to send—and to enjoy a blissful night after so many tiresome ones. That, she happily did, leaving the letter folded on the desk with a smile.

-O-

September 6, 1501

Roma, Italy

Catherine regarded the two Assassins in front of her closely. Beyond them, her recruits trained hard—Carlo was teaching Diana and being very gentle and good about it—and went through their motions. Ezio was off somewhere else, gathering more info on the Followers and the Borgia, or possibly getting new recruits. He also liked to make the rounds to their allies at least once a week, so he might pop in on Bartolomeo, or just go see his mother, sister, and nephew. That left her in their fortress, which acted as their official "Bureau", as they were properly called, and while that was a normal thing, today had a surprise.

Namely, the unexpected visit by Jacopo and Alessandra.

They had been assigned to a particular area of Roma to cover on a daily basis and help Ezio as deemed fit, but they had come in unexpectedly and requested her time. Briefly, she'd wondered if maybe they'd had something big to report or wanted a change of pace, but their expressions said otherwise, and for all she'd seen the two had been working very well together with no problems in the slightest. It had once been a surprise for the redhead that the two had such good chemistry together considering how Jacopo had started out, but they'd both proven to be very effective as comrades out in the field. She liked to think Alessandra had managed to get the young man to pull is head out of his ass—not unlike she had for Ezio—but she always kept that comment to herself. Looking at them now, though, she couldn't help noting how the two would glance between one another, occasionally their lips curving upwards, and how their bodies seemed relaxed.

It was curious.

"What do I owe the pleasure, Jacopo? Alessandra?" she replied finally, gesturing to them both. They looked to one another again, and the young woman nodded to her companion. He stepped forward, so she met his gaze, which was, to her surprise, rather shy—or rather, nervous.

"Well, you remember how you mentioned to all of us before that you wanted to send one or two of us to England?" he began, and her brow hiked up.

"I do," she replied, doing all she could to keep a smirk off her face.

"Well… Alessandra and I have been talking, and… we… well, we'd like to go—to England. Together."

"We've ben learning different languages since we started, and our English isn't all that bad already," the young woman spoke up next, coming forward to set her hand on his shoulder. Jacopo spared her a smile.

"You're… serious?"

Again, an exchange of looks, "Yes."

"And you're sure? Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're up for it, but… Jacopo, you have family here, and one that is rather well off, actually. And you, too, have family here Alessandra, although they may not be doing as well as his. You have lives here. Roots. Are you really willing and ready to leave it all behind? Because if you choose to go to England… you may not come back. There is a chance you could, but more than likely not. I want you to consider that before you say yes.

"And more than that… you joined the Order for a specific reason—to fight the Borgia… you swore your own oaths. If you leave here… if you go to England, you're leaving that behind. You'll be fighting Templars, yes, but not the ones you know. The people are different. Their life is different in its own ways. You won't know your enemy, and the goals you made here will be left with all the rest. Leaving here to England means leaving everything," she went on, looking to them both somberly. Her expression softened some, though, as she came forward and placed her hand on both their shoulders. "I'm not saying this to discourage you. I only do it to caution you, and to make sure you're fully clear of what this means. It's not to be an easy choice—even less easy than choosing to join and stick with the Order. You're going to be sacrificing a lot to do a great good, and I don't want you to come to regret it later on."

The two were quiet, gazes falling for a moment, and then to one another. Catherine had to admit, she was surprised when Alessandra's hand moved from Jacopo's shoulder to his hand, entwining their fingers. She could see the squeeze of their digits, and a strong determination in their fierce eyes.

"We've talked about—a lot. We… we know what we're doing. We have lives here—families… we know that, but… we've found something new—with each other… and, truth be told… it would be hard to have it here. Our families are too different, and while we don't care… society will. But… but if we left—if we started anew in England… we could live together as we wanted. So, we're prepared. We're ready to leave it all," the young woman spoke, and her companion—or rather, her lover—did not waver at any point in time. They were sincere, in every way.

They reminded Catherine of herself—with Ezio. Young. In love. Fighting a war they didn't always understand. Fighting impossible odds. Facing all kinds of dangers. And yet—it was worth it. All of it. So long as it meant they could be together, it was worth it.

Catherine couldn't help her smile, "Then so be it. If that's your choice, I won't stand in the way, and I'll be more than happy to write to the English Mentor that he won't just have one, but two experienced Assassins coming their way… although, should I warn them about any, ah… complications in the future?"

"Huh…? Oh!" Alessandra blushed, eyes dropping shyly. "I… well, we're not… expecting or… anything."

"I'll make sure it's handled. All that matters is we're together," Jacopo added, chest and head high. Catherine regarded him closely, taking her hand to lift his chin up thoughtfully. She even hummed to add to the effect.

"You've changed quite a bit, Jacopo. As I recall, you didn't quite like the idea of lady warriors," she smirked playfully.

"I admit I… didn't… but you and her have been rather… convincing."

Alessandra grinned almost wickedly, "I just teased him about being so slow until he finally gave in and started teasing back. I think he just likes knowing he can still beat me in a fight, though."

"Tsk. Don't make me change my mind about you now," Jacopo snorted, but his grip on her hand never wavered.

"Oh, please. You enjoy a lot more than my teasing now," she cooed back, and Catherine couldn't help laughing. Oh, yes, they were like her and her husband, too.

"Just remember to let us know when the wedding is. I can't guarantee Ezio and I can get there, but we'll try," the redhead grinned, and waved at them. "Go on, then. I'll get everything written and the letter sent. It will be a while before we get a reply and longer still until you leave, so take this time to talk to your families and get yourselves ready. It's a damned long journey, including a boat ride, and you'll be on your own. No one here can help you, so you two need to watch each other's back and keep each other strong."

"Of course," Alessandra grinned, looking to her lover.

"Always," he added, meeting her gaze, and bringing her hand up to place a kiss on her knuckles.

"Good. Now, get out of here and keep working on your English," Catherine chuckled, shooing them off. The two nodded happily and left with a jubilance she wouldn't have expected had she not known their not-so-secret little secret. She watched them go until they were out of sight before returning her attention to her students. She noted Carlo was looking to her curiously—while still working with her daughter, she noted wryly—but waved off his questions. She'd explain all later.

For now, she just smiled. Things were going quite well, after all. Quite well, indeed.

-O-

January 27, 1502

Rome, Italy

"Mario, now, now, don't fuss," Catherine chuckled as she shifted her son, just a little over a year and a half. He'd grown a thick head of air, an even bigger appetite than before, and had become a bundle of energy that turned him into a wriggler. He'd begun to walk proper, too, making him quite the rascal around the fortress, although there were always eye on him to keep him from getting into trouble. He was well-liked among most the Assassins—some never really interacted—and so even they sometimes helped out. For the most part, though, it fell to his mother, older sister—now ten years herself—father, grandmother, cousins, and aunt. All were happy to tend to the boy, who they all hoped would grow up strong like the father he resembled.

"Such a trouble maker he's becoming," Claudia hummed, sitting as prim and proper as ever at the table in the Isola Tiberina's study. She was visiting after leaving the Rosa in charge of her sons and her one of her higher-up courtesans, which gave her sister-in-law the time needed to visit her brother's family.

"Like his father, you mean to say," the redhead smirked, shifting her son in her lap. "Which he is, but I'm just glad he's happy and healthy. How's Federico doing? Bartolomeo told me Giovanni is on his way to becoming a squad leader and probably will move even higher up."

"And I am proud of him as much as I worry," the woman sighed, pressing her cheek into her hand. "But he is happy and doing well. Federico is, too. All the girls adore him for what he does… although, I do not know if I like it or not."

Catherine laughed, "Well, he got his father's charm, so it's no wonder. You just best worry about the ladies trying to get him to marry any of them."

"Oh, no. No, no, no—he will marry a woman of a much higher caliber," Claudia huffed, head raised high. "I may love my girls, but my boy is going to marry a lady of higher stature, as befitting our noble house."

"Your girls might riot."

"Hardly. They like how I run the business too much. Besides, my Federico knows better. I might tolerate Giovanni getting away with running off to fight, but I will not tolerate him marrying just anybody."

"Is that what you thought when Ezio started courting me?" Catherine smirked playfully.

Claudia gave her a look, "Obviously not. I quite liked you, and you are of high caliber, obviously. I admit, I was sore you lied about being a banker's daughter, but I approve of your family being a part of the Order as much as we are."

"Oh, well, thank-you¸ sister," the redhead snickered, though couldn't help a more silent laugh torn between amusement and sadness. She had never told her sister-in-law she was from the future, and she imagined she never would. Claudia wouldn't believe her, anyways, but sometimes she hated lying to them—all of them. Except Ezio, of course. She wasn't even sure she'd tell her children, either, but it was for the best.

"Oh, hush. Otherwise, you can forget the party we have planned for your birthday."

"I told you I don't need one. I've really been too swamped with work to worry about it, and what's the fun of having birthdays after you turn forty? I don't want to be told I'm getting closer and closer to fifty."

"Again: hush. You are only forty-five," she mused, and Catherine again kept quiet. Truth be told, she was probably only in her thirties after the Clock restoring her time, but it was simply better to just not say anything. Ah, the troubles of time travel.

"Fine, fine, Throw me a party. I guess I could use a break."

"I heard it has been a bit complicated lately?" Claudia mused, reaching over to pick up her glass of wine to sip. She paused, though, glancing around. "By the way, where is Diana? I have not seen her."

"She's probably doing some training with Ezio—she took an interest in free running, and, no, don't give me that look, she wanted it, so hush. As for complications… sort of. Spain is on board with taking on Assassins from us, but we've gotten word from India now—I know, I know. I was shocked, too," Catherine hummed as she lifted up her boy, earning a laugh from him. "I'm hoping to send Pierro and Giotto to Spain, but they need time to think. As for India… well, Alfonso finished his training for the most part, and I think he'd do well working on his own, but he's close to people here. There's about three other recruits who are almost ready to go on their own, and I have five more I'm still running through the ropes…"

"But… India? That is so far away… is it really feasible to send Assassins there?"

The redhead shrugged, "They contacted us, actually. Word must have gotten out about our work, I guess, but they need some more help over there, and it seems like our Order here is thriving the most. I want to say I'm flattered, but I'm not sure how I feel exactly. It's… strange, coordinating all this, and just… leading it. I know Ezio is more of the front man and he's doing all sorts of good work in the city, but even us together is just… I don't know? I just never thought… Mario always gave us direction or Lorenzo gave us work, but now it's us doing it.

"And then, after what happened to our home and how I behaved… I suppose it all just feels… surreal," she sighed, a tired smile on her face. Her gaze had fallen, but it lifted when Claudia's hand touched her arm. On her face was a warm, comforting smile.

"You are doing wonderful, Catherine. You and Ezio are building something so amazing here. I want to see the Borgia fall just as much as you, but it has become so much more… and I am proud to be a part of it—just as you should be proud to be leading it. The Order is going to thrive under you and Ezio. Roma will thrive. So do not doubt yourself. You may have stumbled into the dark, but you have stormed back into the light, and you are strong. So strong. Now, hold your head high, my sister."

Catherine regarded Claudia for a good long while, Mario squirming in her arms, and chuckled, "You know, I'm starting to see why you're good at running your business and how you raised such good kids."

"Mother calls it a gift."

"Does Ezio?"

"He calls it nagging, I think," the young woman mused, scrunching her nose a bit.

"He loves you know—and he's sorry. Even if he won't say it."

She smirked this time, "Oh, I know. But I am going to make him say it first."

"That's my favorite sister-in-law," Catherine winked, brushing hair from Mario's face. "And… I think I'm feeling more aggregable to that birthday party now. I might even put aside my work just for that."

"Good, because it is happening. But until then, might I see my nephew?"

"Of course. Just, do me one favor, Claudia?" the redhead smiled as she shifted her boy into his aunt's lap.

Claudia raised a brow, "And what is that?"

"Try not to spoil him too much—wouldn't want him to end up like his father."

Her sister-in-law just laughed.

-O-

November 15, 1502

Roma, Italy

Catherine regarded the group before them, four new Assassins to be. Alessio. Matteo. Lorenzo. Isabetta. Beyond them, the others—old, and new. She recognized Alfonso, and Belloza immediately. Of her originals, Alessandra and Jacopo were thriving in England, Carlo had gone to Spain, and Giotto and Pietro had ventured off to India to do their work. She expected a letter from all from all of them on their work soon. Today, though, was about their newest, fully fledged Assassins. She'd had them for months now, and they'd trained hard and learned quickly. They were, perhaps, her quickest learned students, having the will and the drive to see it done. As it stood, there would be eight more done with their training by the end of the year if she could help it. Twelve new Assassins to fight for Roma, and other lands. Spain was asking for more, Portugal was interested, and even Germany was intrigued. They were, for lack of better word, the source of Assassins in almost all of Europe it seemed, and she was both proud and more than awed by the notion. Her and Ezio's work was paying off.

"We are Assassins," her husband spoke, his voice echoing through the dimly lit halls. His words were echoed by the recruits and, one by one, they came forward. Alessio first. Isabetta second. Then Matteo, and lastly Lorenzo. They would work their own missions and make their own choices now, but they would always find a home here. They might even return to help train the new recruits. For now, though, they would celebrate, and once Catherine might have joined them, but this time she forsook it for solace with her husband after the ceremony—and Machiavelli, who lingered.

"Well done. Four more Assassins. I admit, I did not expect your work to become what it is—not so fast, certainly," he hummed, lip tugged upwards in a smile.

"If it helps—neither did we," Catherine chuckled, leaning against Ezio as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Not that we're complaining—although it is a lot of work. We're grateful you've been helping with the politics."

He waved a hand, "It is nothing. I must do my part in this grand design, and politics is not either of you two's forte."

"I definitely don't enjoy politics, although it's been… enlightening to learn new languages. I think Diana likes it more than me, though. She's definitely better at French than I am."

"She takes after her mother," Ezio chuckled cheekily. "But, truly, we're glad for your aid. Although, aren't you getting a bit busy for it?"

"What do you—Oh!" Niccolò laughed. "You mean my dear Marietta. Yes, I suppose I am busy tending to her whims, but… she understands despite not knowing the true depth of things. I told her of my busy life from the beginning, and she accepted. Although, I do fear if she were to become with child, I may find myself more occupied than expected."

"Are there any signs?" Catherine asked, perking up a little.

The nobleman shook his head, "Not yet, or none that I or the Doctor are sure of. I am hopeful, though. I admit, having Diana around along with my nephew has mad me eager for my own, as surprising as that may seem to you."

"Hardly. I saw the light Diana brought to your eyes, my friend," the Auditore grinned, clapping the man's shoulder. "My prayers are with you, then. May you be blessed with a child soon."

"Indeed. Now, I must be off. She is likely wondering why I am not yet home despite the late hour. I look forward to the next ceremony—and as soon as I receive word from any other Orders I will let you know."

"Thank-you, Niccolò. We'll speak soon," Catherine nodded, both she and her husband bowing their head slightly as the nobleman finally headed off, leaving them alone. It was only then the redhead inhaled deeply and looked up at the love of her life. He was another year older, but he still bore the remnants of his youth, although he did look more tired in his eyes. She felt it, too—the weariness of the years, but they were strong and would endure. "How are you, love? Things going well?"

"Actually, yes," he hummed, tilting his head to give her a kiss on the brow. "I haven't had the chance to let you or Leonardo know, but I was successful in tracking down the next war machine. I plan to head out within the week to destroy it."

"Oh? That's wonderful! That will make, what? The third one? Only one more should remain after this," she grinned. Her husband returned it as his hand released her hips to wrap around her fingers instead.

"It is. Although, I won't know what to do with myself after. We finally cleared out the last of the Follower Dens, although members do linger, but at least the heads of the snake are gone… The Borgia remain in the city, but they're severely weaker than before… The French pose an issue, but they keep themselves barricaded in the countryside and Bartolomeo keeps them at bay… and both Micheletto and the Cardinal man have yet to appear in a position to take them out."

"So. More sitting and waiting. I hate it, too," Catherine sighed, head tilting dramatically. "I guess all we can do is keep expanding and seeing about doing more local missions outside Roma but not so much out of Italia. I'm even considering one just to get out and about. Lord knows I've been cooped up in here too long."

"I think it'd be a good idea. You and me—on a mission again," Ezio grinned, squeezing her hand.

"You sure? I mean… I'd like to, but… No. No, you're right. I've gotten better. I need to be more confident about it—even Claudia tells me so," the redhead laughed, shaking her head. "I guess… it's just… It was almost a year ago now, wasn't it? No, longer still… and yet I still worry. I can't forget the moments—not even a little. I'm not sure I should forget."

"Is that why you've stirred in your sleep so much?" he asked, and a small smile appeared when she looked to him sharply. "Yes, I've noticed. You know I do, and you don't need to be so upset by it. It's not a bad thing you remember—but we need to start getting you to let it go. When you're ready, of course."

Another sigh left her lips, "You're right. Again. Really, I'm probably the one doing the most worrying about it. Yeah… alright. But start small. Easy, simple missions—when I have time. I do still need to train everyone and do the missions. Oh, and care for the kids, make sure Leonardo is doing alright and get supplies from him. Oh, and talk to Niccolò and La Volpe and Bartolomeo and Claudia and—."

"—if you're trying to tell me I haven't done much around here, I'll have you know," Ezio snickered, tugging his wife so she was facing him and his hands rest on her hips, "—that I do plenty and you are being dramatic. I tend to the little ones as well, train the rookies, and speak with everyone, too. And, most importantly of all—I take care of you."

Catherine grinned impishly, "Oh, I know, but I have to tease you."

"And I'd have it no other way. Now, come on. Diana and Mario are waiting for us upstairs. They insisted we let them stay in the bed tonight," he chuckled, urging her onwards again.

"Fine by me. I'm happy for as much time with them as possible. I'm just surprised you're so willing."

He paused, "Wait—what's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, don't feign innocence."

"Come now, dear, I'm not that bad," he huffed, releasing her to fold his arms over his chest.

"Uh-huh," she smirked right on back, waltzing on by.

"Catherine," he pouted, putting on a good show of it. She couldn't help laughing as she raised a brow at him.

"Oh, hush. You know I love you. Now, come on, love, the children are waiting."

Ezio just chuckled, coming up to take her hand, "Yes, dear."

-O-

July 25, 1503

Roma, Italy

"Catherine."

The redheaded Auditore looked up from her work at her mission table, one of her newest Assassins beside her, discussing a possibly venture coming up, and found Niccolò Machiavelli by the entryway. It was quite the surprise, the man busy with his newborn son these days, a wife pregnant yet again with their second child, and also the matters of politics when it came to the noblemen of Roma—and the Borgia. She was glad, as always, to see him, though, and welcomed him warmly with an embrace. Her Assassin—Francesco was his name, proven quite the adept fighter and swift on his feet—bowed with all respect deserved and remained silent as his Maestro and higher up spoke.

"What do we owe the honor?" the redhead inquired and raised a brow when a letter was produced. It was not like the many others from other countries or her Assassins reporting from said countries. Rather, it was but plain parchment and when she opened it up she found scribbles and re-working of words on it. She knew the script to be Machiavelli's hand, but the one he'd written over was new to her. The message he laid out was clear, though, and her heart skipped a beat as memory came to her.

"Giovanni," she breathed, the young boy's vibrant, smiling face flashing across her thoughts. The one truly innocent person in the entirety of the Borgia family. He had been as much of a prisoner as she and her son had been, but he had elected to stay behind all those years ago. The maid had sworn to see to his safety, though—and also to get word out when the boy wanted to escape.

It seemed the time had come.

"Yes. He wishes to leave his home—to be free of his father and grandfather. My contact is able and willing to help… but I fear it will not be easy. I imagine they will need our aid."

"Then we'll give it. I swore I would… Ah, Francesco," she spoke, turning to the young man. He was maybe in his late twenties, a youthfulness in his features still, but also a hardiness. He had a good heart as well, and she knew he would be willing. Sure enough, he stood to attention.

"What would you ask of me, Maestro?"

"Giovanni Borgia—the son of Cesare Borgia. He was there when I was prisoner and was the one of the few people to show kindness. He chose to remain when we rescued Caterina Sforza and my son, but now he seeks to be free of them—to join us. He is sincere, and it would be cruel to leave a child in their hands. It won't be easy, though. A maid is there to help, but they need protection."

"I understand and am honored to help. Only give me the time and place and I will see to it," the young man nodded, bringing a closed fist to his breast.

"My contact can get him out to the streets of the Vaticano, but no further—Cesare would never allow him beyond the bridge without a guard. You will need to slip away with him there. My contact has her own way, and so you need not worry for her."

"Understood."

"Will you let your contact know what to do?" Catherine looked to Niccolò.

He nodded, "Yes. There is an unique fountain she can bring him to. Francesco, will that suffice?"

"It is more than enough. Once I know the time, leave the rest to me. I will bring him here safely."

"Good. You have my gratitude," the redhead smiled, clasping his shoulder warmly. Again, he bowed his head. She knew little of his background, but wherever he'd come from, he'd grown up with manners. "Go on and rest up and prepare then. It might take, what? A day? A week?"

"If Cesare is back, it may take time, but if he is still away, which, as far as I am aware, he is, then it may not be long at all. I will keep you informed, but best to be ready for any moment."

"You heard him. Keep ready, Francesco, and best of luck to you. I look forward to hearing the good news," the redhead grinned, and her Assassin smirked back with a nod. He trotted off not long after, passing by other recruits, whom roamed about the fortress as they pleased with this day being a day to rest. Catherine breathed in softly as she stretched herself and looked to her comrade. "So… he finally wants out… I almost can't believe it. I think I'm more relieved than anything else, but… ah, I'll worry about it more when the time comes. Thank-you for coming to me, though, Niccolò. I know you're so busy and—."

"Fear not; I will always have time for the Order. My wife and child sleep more than anything else right now, so I am allotted more time than before," he replied, though a sad look came over him. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could do so, a quarry of voices rose above others. Familiar ones, too—Ezio and Claudia, if only by the fact it was a quarrel; nothing too serious, but their faces showed they had been annoying one another as they came into the fortress' main area.

"Ugh, I have had enough of you. Besides, we are here, so if you have a complaint you can give it to your wife," the younger Auditore snapped, lifting her nose up. Ezio sighed with exasperation, rolling his eyes, but had enough sense to give his wife a grin as they approached. He went for a kiss, but the redhead made a point to give him a look and waggle her finger, preventing him from claiming such a pleasure. He pouted—Claudia took enjoyment in his frustration—but relented.

"I'm not even going to bother to ask what it's about. Rather, what do I owe the visit?"

"Well, I have news about who is funding Cesare's army," the younger Auditore mused. "Truth be told, it was La Volpe who learned the name, but regardless, the man you're looking for is The Banker."

"A man? Isn't the money coming from the Pope? The Papacy?"

"La Volpe mentioned a man called Agostino Chigi is the Pope's money-lender, but apparently Cesare does his business with someone else. We do not have a name, just that they are called The Banker," Ezio added, then looked to his sister.

She smiled, just a little, "Luckily, I just so happen to know someone who owes money to this 'Banker'. Senator Egidio Troche. He comes in all the time to complain to my girls—among other things."

"Sounds like that's a lead we need to follow up on. Do you know where he lives?"

"Unfortunately, no," the younger woman huffed.

Niccolò frowned, "Neither do I, I fear. I am not close to the man, nor speak much with him…"

"Hmm… Claudia, does he come on specific days? Times?" Ezio inquired, and his sister nodded.

"Yes, he generally comes at the end of the week. If you come by you might be able to follow him to his home."

"It is all well and good to find the Banker, but do you have a way to steal away the funds from Cesare?" Machiavelli piped up.

The younger Auditore gestured, "My girls can sneak it out. They will be the least to be suspected, anyways."

"Claudia…" Ezio began, voice low and full of warning, but his sister was having none of it as she glared daggers at him.

"My girls are just as capable as your Assassins. You should worry about finding the Senator and the Banker. My girls will do their part," she snapped quickly, but Catherine noted there wasn't the usual fire to it.

"And that's what we'll do. Ezio or I or both of us can scout the Campidoglio—it's where all the senators like to gather. We'll watch for himin the coming days until we find him, follow him to his house, and go from there. We'll be sure to let your girls know when it's time. Until then, everyone just be ready, alright?" the redhead spoke firmly, giving her husband and sister-in-law a look.

"Well, if that is settled," Niccolò chuckled, not at all missing the tension in the room as he nodded his head. "I look forward to the good news. Best of luck to you, my friends."

"Indeed. Come see me when it is time," her sister-in-law half-sighed, though spared a smile for the redhead as she, too, turned to go. "Forgive me for the short visit. I simply could not let Ezio get away with his foolishness so I followed him all the way here, but I must return to my girls. Do knock some sense into him, will you?"

Catherine made no promises, only snickered as the younger woman left, and then regarded her husband with a cheeky grin. He, in turn, pouted, but only for a little bit, and then grinned like an imp as he folded his arms over his chest.

"So… You and me? On a mission? Is it finally time?"

The redhead paused, taking in his words, and laughed, "I… Well, I suppose it is. I said I should, and I've put it off… but… yes. I think it's time I finally returned to the mission side of things… God, I hope I'm not too rusty."

"Never… buuut… we probably should ask Leonardo to quickly make you a pair of Blades," he hummed, and she laughed again.

"Yes, I suppose I should. Well then, shall we?" she cooed, holding out her arm. He gladly came to her side and let her loop their arms.

"We shall… oh, wait… should we take Diana to see him? She might be upset if we don't…"

Catherine paused, thinking, and sighed, "Yeah, we should. Lord knows she'll pout for a week again."

"I'll wait for you."

"Yeah, yeah, quit grinning you oaf," the redhead chuckled, shaking her head. It thankfully wasn't hard to find her daughter reading her brother a book—not that he fully understood, but she liked to do it—but was all too happy to drop it in favor of seeing her favorite art teacher. Mario came, too, of course, and in the end it was, perhaps, one of the better times she'd had in a while. She savored it, too, knowing what was to come.

The Banker's demise was looming, and once he fell, so, too, would the rest, and things would change for them all once more. That, Catherine was sure of.

25 – End

TMWolf: And there we are! Like I said, pretty much filter, but fitting in canon elements. Took a bit of researching to figure out what countries' Assassin groups were active at the time and working in Giovanni Borgia, but I managed. Some stuff is ret conned over many games and other media, so I did pick and choose a little. Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed! Next chapter has way more fun and action! :)