A game, or real life? (Ezio x reader)

Mentor, Master Assassin, responsibilities

A/N: Maria's burial place is unknown. So, I thought it suited for her to be buried in Firenze, even though that's nearly a week-worth of travelling to get there. For that time, at least. X)

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My dearest Aurora. My dearest Leandro.

I took great time writing this letter to you; this must be my fourth – maybe fifth – attempt, but I have long-since stopped counting.

You are yet too young to understand the cruelty of the life your father and I share, but if luck is on our side, then you won't have to read this letter.

In 1476, your nonno (grandpa) Giovanni Auditore, along with your uncles Federico and Petruccio, were wrongly accused of the crime of treason, and were publicly hanged at the Piazza della Signoria. And had I not been there, your father too, would've perished. The Auditores had been betrayed by a man your grandfather once called friend, the Golfaloniere Uberto Alberti. He died a few days later to your father's blade, and as a wanted man, he led your aunt Claudia and your grandmother Maria out of Firenze, the beautiful city that witnessed their births. With my help, your father took his family to Monteriggioni, and this is how our story begins.

What I am about to reveal is a sad truth that your father is aware of since the beginning of our courtship. My arrival wasn't by chance. My every move, decision, bound by the inevitable truth that I was sent here, and could very well be sent back in the blink of an eye. Such is the Sword of Damocles that hangs over my head: the fact that in a matter of moments, I would no longer feel your father's arms around my waist, and I would no longer be able to see you grow.

Aurora... Leandro... my beautiful babies... if you're reading this, then it means that I will no longer be able to come back to you and pull you into my arms. Know that your mother loves you with all her heart, and I hope that you'll find someone to love as much as I love your father.

I'll never forget you.

Love,

(y/n) (l/n).

How long has it been since I wrote this letter? 10 years? Maybe 15 years? Hmm, yes. 15 years ago, this letter came to life beneath the energetic and melancholic scribbling of my quill against the paper. I remember that evening quite well. My left ring finger was still aching from the initiation ceremony. My thoughts were still lingering on that vision the Apple revealed to me – that female figure who looked just like me, and that mysterious stone door carved with all those drawings and engravings. I couldn't sleep that night. Even with Ezio's tender arms around my waist. So, I began to write. And before I knew it, I had poured my heart out onto that sheet of paper, during that warm September night of 1488. I allowed myself to shake those thoughts away before I threw that letter into the fireplace. No. Tonight was no time for sorrow. Tonight was time to celebrate! After long years of hard work, at last, the French armies were withdrawing, and the Papal armies were at a disadvantage. Cesare Borgia was politically growing weaker with each passing day. Soon, we'd be able to get our revenge. For Mario.

Tonight, Ezio gathered the recruits and all the other Assassins at our headquarters. Even Claudia. I only discovered Ezio's true intentions as he held a hand out to his sister, and asked her to join us. I began to smile. Finally, not only they made peace with each other, but Ezio was no longer trying to push his family away. As I looked down at Aurora and Leandro, who were in formation, I could only smile more. Yes. At last, there was some serenity in this family.