Various Locations, The Holy See, 1494 -- Friday Fandomtime (NFB)
Lucrezia
It was well past twilight when Cesare came to collect his sister and her friend; it had to be deep in the middle of the night when they finally arrived. The spot was an unused corner in a larger cemetery; a man was digging a long trench. When she spotted it, Lucrezia grasped for Daenerys's hand, and she did not let go for several moments.
She wondered how Cesare had persuaded a gravedigger to work this late before realizing this man was probably the infamous Micheletto, Cesare's manservant. Assassin.
Cesare removed his cloak to reveal his cardinal's red. He produced a vial of holy water to flick onto the open grave.
"Pie Jesu Domine, Dona ei requiem." Cesare began. Lucrezia held Juanito tightly as he began to fuss.
Back to ashes, back to the ground. Her Paolo would sleep here, and return to God's embrace.
She thought of a boy and a girl, sitting under a tree during a thunderstorm, kissing as though they were the first to discover it.
She shed no tears. Perhaps her eyes had run dry.
Pope Alexander VI
His Holiness Alexander Sextus, Pope of Rome, was NOT PLEASED. The body of the young man who'd started all this fuss had gone missing during the night, and he had a good guess as to why.
Lucrezia had taken to her room and wasn't eating, or speaking to anyone. She was wasting away to nothing in despair and grief! The Lord knew he'd tried to comfort her, but there was only so much one could do.
This peasant, the father of his grandson, had had the profound lack of judgment and character to kill himself publicly. He had damned his own soul to eternal torment, and there wasn't anything that could be done -- not even by His Holiness the Pope -- to change that. The poor, stupid boy was forbidden a proper Christian burial. He'd almost allowed it anyway, in the hopes that it would rouse his daughter from her stupor, but the Church could ill-afford the scandal right now.
And that, of course, was the only possible explanation for the disappearance of the body. "SEND FOR OUR SON!!!" he thundered from his throne, leaving it to the servants to put his commands to action while he sat and seethed.
Cesare
Cesare had had little sleep, but nonetheless he was up at first light, making what arrangements he deemed necessary. He had hoped to intercept his father with news before the discovery came to light, but the volume from the papal throne suggested he had failed.
He had promised Lucrezia that he would absolve his soul this morning, and so that task would be his first. He stormed into the room, hardly caring about the hurried servants.
"Holy Father," he said. "I would speak to you in private."
Pope Alexander VI
"Would you?" the Pope growled. "Would you, indeed? You have MUCH to answer for, this morning, before your Father in Heaven, and Us, your Father on Earth! EXPLAIN YOURSELF!!!"
Cesare
Cesare took his father's arm, leading the Holy Father into a convenient alcove. The further they were from servants' ears, the better.
"You know my sins already, but I would confess," he said firmly. "I have committed heresy against the Holy Mother Church, and may even have committed blasphemy. I have given funeral rites to a suicide. I did this against your express orders. I beg forgiveness most humbly and would seek absolution for my sins."
He did not have the proper mind to enter confession; he was not sorry he had engaged in these acts. He would perform them again. But he had promised his sister he would seek to clean his soul.
Pope Alexander VI
The Pope disliked being led by the arm -- it made him feel like a dottering old fool -- but he did see the wisdom of taking the discussion out of the public eye. "Why would you do such a thing?!" he demanded, in a half-whisper. "Heresy?! Blasphemy?! DISOBEDIENCE!?!" Clearly, that third sin was the worst. And "why" wasn't really the proper question. "Why" was obvious. Rodrigo was simply incensed that Cesare had DARED.
"And for this you would ask forgiveness?!"
Cesare
"I would beg it, Your Holiness," Cesare said, bowing his head. "I hoped to restore my sister's waning health by granting the proper rites to one she had once loved. She knows nothing of this. I acted alone, and all guilt shall be mine and mine alone."
Pope Alexander VI
"Well, did it work?" Rodrigo asked, hurriedly. He could get back to being properly angry in a moment -- his darling Lucrezia outranked anything else.
Cesare
"I had not yet informed her as to the event," Cesare said. It was not good to lie in confession, but it was worse to implicate one's beloved sister. "I had hoped to do so now, after I had come to you."
Lucrezia
There was the determined sound of one pushing open the doors to the Holy Father's inner chambers, startling both men from their conversation.
"Holy Father?" Lucrezia called out.
Pope Alexander VI
His Holiness's head turned, and a smile broke out on his face. "Lucrezia, my dear?" he asked tentatively. "Is that really... Lucrezia!" He ran to embrace her, Cesare momentarily forgotten. "Come here, our child. Are you well? What miracle is this?!"
Lucrezia
"It is no miracle, Holy Father," Lucrezia said, allowing him to kiss her face, and returning the hug. She had not decided yet if she was angry with him. This morning, she had felt angry with most of the world.
Most of the world excluded her beloved Cesare, her dearest Daenerys and her mother, of course.
"My Paolo is saved from Hellfire, and I am in agony no more," she said, solemnly. "Pray do not blame Cesare."
She had hoped to arrive before Cesare, and spare him the effort of lying. She was, on that front, too late.
Pope Alexander VI
For his part, the Pope wasn't sure what to make of this all. He was still angry with Cesare, that was for certain, but the light of Lucrezia's presence brushed away all the clouds. "Yes, yes, yes," he mumbled, waving away her concerns. "We will talk no more of blame at the moment -- though, Cesare, this discussion is not over."
He turned to Cesare and gave him a stern glare, then quickly made the sign of the cross. "Te absolvo in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. And as the Lord said unto the Magdalene, go and sin no more."
He turned back to Lucrezia all smiles. "Now, my dear, how are you? You're looking quite well this morning, and your recovery fills us with joy."
Lucrezia
"I feel much improved," she said, honestly. "A friend has been giving me her counsel. She will require a formal introduction to Your Holiness later, as befits her station."
She could have simply left it there. Her father had absolved Cesare; he did not need to know the truth. But trying to conceal the truth had left her motionless in bed for days, until Dany had broken the spell.
This was a door that, once opened, could not be closed again. But Paolo deserved better than lies.
"I would have you look at this, first," she said, offering him the scrap of cloth she had kept with her since Paolo's death. The note.
Pope Alexander VI
He took it from her and read it over, not understanding what she was trying to tell him. "It's very touching," he told her. "So?"
Lucrezia
She held a hand out, demanding the note's return.
"No, it isn't," she said. "My Paolo could neither read nor write."
Pope Alexander VI
So that was it. The note had not been written by the stable boy, so someone else had written it. And planted it on the body. "So, it was murder, then," he acknowledged. Truth be told, he'd already suspected it might be. And if indeed it was, why hadn't she told him sooner? This whole unpleasantness could have been spared!
Lucrezia
"It was," she agreed. Which meant Cesare had committed no sin save for disobedience. She would let the Holy Father discover that himself.
The rest ... she would not volunteer. That, too, he could uncover, or he could ignore.
Juan
Rodrigo looked at her, concerned. It sounded like she knew who the murderer was. And if she did, and since instead of telling someone and getting the bastard put to justice she'd gone and moped in her room... She was protecting the murderer. Which left very few people it could have been. He did NOT like where this was going. If it were within the Pope's power, he would simply MAKE it not be so.
"And where is the murderer?" he demanded. If she knew, then he needed to know, so that he could decide what to do.
Lucrezia
At last, he understood.
"Too close for comfort," she said, holding his eyes with hers.
There were few in this city she would protect, even to the point of making herself ill. Cesare had defied him in order to help her bury her once-love, so he was omitted. Unless the Holy Father thought that her mother was out stringing nooses, he knew the murderer as well as she.
She did not believe 'justice' would be the result.
Vannozza
It was the second time in as many days that Vannozza was hosting an unorthodox gathering. As expected, the Holy Father had remonstrated at length that she would be a party to Lucrezia meeting with a young boy -- ridiculous. He of all people understood the need to see one's child.
He had his faults, but Rodrigo was, and always had been, a most devoted father.
That meeting had been for love. This one was for truth. Lucrezia's lover had committed suicide; Cesare had given him funeral rites, against his father's permission; both siblings hinted that Juan had committed murder. Their family had never hung by such a slender thread.
Lucrezia herself was not here; perhaps she was still in a delicate state, or perhaps the Holy Father had not wanted her to hear any unpleasant details which may arise. Vannozza was not concerned. If she knew her children -- and she did -- then Cesare would inform Lucrezia of anything of importance.
And so it was herself, the Pope, and their two eldest sons who sat at a small table tonight. Vannozza had to admit, she was a little afraid of what would come next.
Pope Alexander VI
Pope Alexander Sextus sat calmly, watching each of his sons in turn. They would be forthright and honest with him. That was all that he asked. They would uncover the truth together, and decide what came next.
He began with Cesare. "You met this boy?"
All this fuss for a stablehand that he, the Holy Father, had never laid eyes upon!
Cesare
Cesare had come to this meeting only so that he might learn the truth, and share it with Lucrezia. If Juan was innocent, she would want to know that. They both would.
He did not relish this evening's interrogation, but the first question was one he could answer honestly.
"Barely," he said. He had stood face-to-face with him, and stepped aside. Nothing more.
Juan
All of this fuss for a stablehand who had deserved worse than he had received.
"You allowed our mother's house to play brothel for him," Juan added helpfully. In case Cesare had forgotten that part.
Cesare
As always, Juan was composing himself with dignity and class. Cesare's other problem this evening would be restraining himself from punching Juan repeatedly.
So, it was much like any other night.
"I know little of brothels, Brother," he replied. Lecherous debauchery was more Juan's department.
Pope Alexander VI
Pope Alexander VI held a hand up, cutting off whatever pithy reply Juan had been planning. He was in no mood to listen to them bicker. Souls had been endangered, by this mess.
"Juan," he said, keeping his tone steady. "Did you meet him?"
Juan
"I saw her meet a peasant at the fountain of Saint Agatha," Juan replied.
A pity he hadn't killed the boy then. His instincts had been right, after all.
Pope Alexander VI
The Holy Father held his son's gaze with his eyes. His voice was low and smooth.
"Juan, if you had a hand in his death, now is the time to confess it to us."
There were no accusations, no recriminations here. Pope Alexander VI only wanted the truth. Perhaps the death had been provoked. Perhaps Juan had had an excellent reason. Perhaps Juan had not committed murder at all.
Juan
Very well. He could play whatever game his father was suggesting.
"Then I confess," he said. As simply as one might ask for a glass of water.
Cesare
Cesare gaped at his brother in silence. It was one thing to suspect, even know; it was another to hear it, spoken aloud in this room.
He had not expected that.
Pope Alexander VI
Pope Alexander's heart stilled. He had not believed his son capable of this; surely Lucrezia had been wrong. To kill a boy, and to send his soul to Hell. Not his Juan.
The Holy Father watched his favorite son shrewdly. It had been such an easy statement. They should be perfectly clear of what they were speaking.
"To what?" he asked.
Juan
The tone of the room had shifted. Juan leaned forward in his chair, still with an affectation of boredom.
"That I didn't."
Two could play this game, Father.
Pope Alexander VI
The Holy Father's gaze held for one very long moment. Was this some kind of a joke? Would Juan toy with him even now? Did he not know how deadly serious this was -- or, worse, did he not care?
The Holy Father had come here with good intentions and promised to listen, and Juan was throwing that back into his face.
The tenuous string holding his temper snapped. He vaulted over the table and leapt at Juan's throat.
Juan
Seriously?! Father was ANGRY at him over this?! He should be THANKING him!!! Juan's heart sank, but he was buoyed by a wave of despair and frustration.
His mother screamed Father's name -- no, his former name. Like Lucrezia, she didn't understand the heights of the family's new station in life. She and Cesare tried to hold the Pope back, to keep him from throttling Juan. But Juan just stared at him defiantly, daring him to do it. He was in the right, here, and he would make the family see reason.
"You would see your daughter married again?!?!" he shouted, spitting it in his father's face. He, and Cesare, and Mother, and everyone would have to know he was right. The rest of the thought didn't even need to be spoken aloud: If the stud Lucrezia had been whoring herself to became common knowledge, no one worthy enough would sue for her hand.
Pope Alexander VI
Vannozza's screams had finally gotten through to Rodrigo -- to Pope Alexander, who yanked his arms away from Cesare's grip. He wasn't going to hurt Juan. He had a handle on his temper once more.
But he was still seething. His boy was crude, callous, and unapologetic. These were not their methods, to hang an innocent and separate his soul from the grace of God. And Juan dared to stand there defiantly staring back.
The Holy Father adjusted his vestments and huffed. "Perhaps."
If Juan knew what was good for him, he would not place a toe out of line right now.
Juan
Father was finally LISTENING. Good. "Then leave that peasant wherever Cesare hid him. Let no one visit the grave, no one mourn him, no one even THINK of him. Cesare, for your sake, I hope that trash is somewhere appropriate to his station, with nothing to mark the spot." The sooner he was out of their lives, the better. Lucrezia would get over it soon enough -- out of sight, out of mind. And they could all go back to being happy and perfect again, now that Juan had cleaned up their mess for them. He didn't even need a thank-you.
"And all of you, be thankful he didn't bring any more shame on your perfect family."
Vannozza
Vannozza felt ill. This, then, was what the Papacy had cost their family.
Juan was cold, and proud. He clung to what little station he had as though status was the same as honor. He had refused marriages for himself because the children were illegitimate. What did he imagine he was?
Cesare hated his position, his calling, and himself. He gripped the back of his chair so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Juan had hurt Lucrezia; such injuries always infuriated Cesare. There was a ruthlessness in Cesare which could frighten Vannozza.
And Lucrezia herself was still too ill to be here today. She had spent days in a fog, mourning and sick, because her child's father had been murdered. She could not raise her own child: she had to stay convincingly pure so she could be bartered to another powerful man. There was a growing darkness inside Lucrezia. She would not stay docile long.
And little Joffre, younger even than Lucrezia, was married and living in Squillace. She had not laid eyes upon him since Juanito's birth.
Rodrigo was losing control of the children around whom his life revolved. All for the name Borgia.
She did her best, but she could only glue so much together. She wished, not for the first time, he had stayed Cardinal Borgia.
Pope Alexander VI
The Holy Father gathered his breath. He would be calm. He would not be rash.
"I will not have this family at war with itself," he seethed. That was of singular importance. They were one. They would only triumph as one.
He closed his eyes, feeling his heart pound in his chest. They were on a precipice. He could only thank God Almighty that Lucrezia was not here tonight. Had she heard what Juan said, she may well have tipped them over.
Finally, the Holy Father looked at Juan. "You will go to Spain," he said. "You will choose a bride from our ancestral homeland. And you will become the Borgia that we always hoped you could be."
Juan was banished from his sight; it was a sting he would feel more sharply than most punishments. And so was the insult laced within his final words.
And with that, the Holy Father took his leave, wishing no more to look upon his son's face.
(OOC: warning for aftermath of murder staged as suicide and religious implications thereof. Directly follows this. Special thanks to the lovely whateverknight for helping me juggle NPCs like a mad fiend. More to come shortly. Some parts (like the confrontation) lifted directly from ep 2x03, some invented from whole cloth, and other places a hodgepodge. NFI, NFB, but OOC is love.)